Heroes Generation: Book 1: Our Notion
by Ida C. Watson
Summary: Eternal damnation to the side she's born into. No interactions with any other side than what she's allowed to. Sylar's sister, Vasanti will have to defy her brother, knowing the consequences of what she has done. Fallen in love with the enemy. Nathan.
1. My Irrationalism

Okay--here's my speech: I do not own any of these charactors--besides the ones youv'e never heard of in heroes --okay? everything belongs to Mr. Kring--the most amazing person ever-who created Nathan Petrelli--my sexy flying man. XD SO here's what happens when Sylar has a family--a sister and someone he loves XD. He still has a soft side and psycopathic side--and will try to murder someone who gets a bit TOO attatched to his sister.

This story is told in his SISTER'S point of view hope you love the name!All they charactors you've never heard of in this story, belong to me!! (with some exceptions such as: Liam ( I took him from 90210!) and MORE, which I will alert to you!

~Our Notion~

*Who do you choose when you can't live without either?*

_When I stepped out into the bright sunlight from the darkness of _the alley, I sighed as the air intoxicated my every sense.

Straightening my slim jeans and halter top, I stepped into the limo that I had called earlier; slipping my BlackBerry into my pocket.

"Samuels," I whispered as I closed the door.

"Ms. Gray," Samuels nodded to me.

"Vasanti," a dark, cold voice muttered beside me, sending chills up my spine.

"Sylar," I scoffed. "What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be beating up _The Solitudes_?"

"Nope, no need," Sylar chuckled, leaning onto his knees, smirking at me.

Sylar is my older brother; he's the brother all guys have been warned about. He'll beat the crap out of you if you're trying to put some sly moves on me, which _is_ kind of funny. Being part of _The Villias_ (a _very_ scary name indeed! I'm shaking in my shoes! It's short for _The Villains_), makes him very different from me, but we have almost the same looks.

He has the cropped dark-brown hair and dangerous golden brown eyes, just like I do.

My hair is fairly long, a dark brown with golden highlights and my eyes are a shy, golden-brown, with a tint of blue on the edges.

Being 16 and all, Sylar can be a huge worry-wart although he has the big build of a wrestler, and dropped out of high school just to raise his sister, who is only three years younger than him after mom and dad died.

"You're such a freak," I muttered under my breath, sliding my feet over the seat, laying my head down to press my burning cheeks onto the cool, sleek leather seats.

"How's school? The after-school club?" Sylar questioned, tapping his chucks onto the floor.

"Hmm . . ." I grunted. "My teachers emphasize too much. The after-school club is starting to get boring. I finished my homework in less than fifteen minutes."

"They're all _solitudes_, that's why," Sylar muttered, flicking his wrist, flinging a gum wrapper to me. "Low life thugs, the beggars. Then there's the ones who think that their higher than others."

I nodded and closed my eyes, hiding my eyes as my hair crossed in front of my face. I felt the pressure beside my leg as he sat down on the seat next to me, brushing his hand across my face, swiping away the strands of hair, pressing his thin, fine lips to my cheek.

I winced as I pushed my power to my cheek as he inched away, his lips turning a light purple, then blue as the wring of ice consumed his body, suddenly frozen in a few seconds.

Smirking, I licked the outside of my lip in accomplishment as he broke loose from the ice.

"You're such a perv," I muttered. "What kind of _Villia_ kisses his sister?"

He pressed his finger against my forehead, laughing as the water dripped down his chin.

"If we weren't related somehow, you'd be frozen stiff," I grumbled.

"If we weren't related as brother and sister, _you'd_ be dead," Sylar retorted.

So, we admit, we have the 'extraordinary' powers that we use for our own purposes. Many of us in this city have a certain power they are bonded to, but the big reason that my brother hates _The Solitudes_ so much, is because most of them have this . . . power that they use to show off if they're rich, to make people think their _superheroes_.

The poorer people, thugs, or beggars, use their power to live on a daily basis, _making_ people give them jobs, food, money; controlling them and threatening them.

"_They use their power to _show off_ they way they control things here. To make people think they're superheroes."_

Sylar had told me one day after I had control over my body and power, teaching me so I wouldn't be like _The Solitudes_ one day.

My power was the reason my mother died. _I know it_. Only brothers and sisters—like us—have the genes that protect them from each other, but not our parents.

I had killed my mother when I'd gotten fussy when I was _just_ born, freezing her into an icicle. My father had to steal me out of the hospital before they found out and a few years later, my father died of lymphoma.

On the last days of his life, he taught Sylar, only seven years old at the time, to fend and watch out for me; literally because I could freeze everything I could lay my hands on.

By now, you must know that my power is freezing things; but it's not.

I have the power of water.

I'm able to flood places with a touch, have boiling water sprout from my hands, and freeze things with a single touch. But boiling water and flooding is for more advanced placement and I'm still working on those two.

Sylar has a power too. I don't consider it a power, but it's his ability—or want. He has the ability to take other powers and use any of them when needed, by nearly _killing_ the person.

He said that one day he's going to take my power and he'll _try_ to stop. The thought still gives me the chills when I think about it, even though I know I'm going to join _The Villias _pretty soon.

"V," Sylar yelled, shaking my shoulders violently, picking me up as he stepped out of the car, setting my feet on the ground.

I stumbled, trying to keep my drowsiness to myself, picking myself up from my sleepy state as Sylar came beside me with my backpack.

"Thanks Samuels," I tried to sound sober, because I felt as if I was drunk.

Stepping around the healthy green lawn, trying not to fall over as I dodged the small fountain in the middle of the round-about of our driveway, I leaned on Sylar, clutching his arm so I wouldn't collapse. When we finally got to the door, I cranked the door open to our mansion as Samuels drove into the garage.

"How'd we manage to get rich and _stay_ rich from your job?" I whispered, throwing my shoes of as I stumbled into the living room, plopping onto the couch, closing my eyes.

The living room was large and had only two sofas with a glass table in the middle, the stairs about 20 feet away from it, spiraling up, but Samuels and Mia got the two rooms downstairs while Sylar and I got the rooms upstairs, Sylar's room two doors away from mine. The large patio outside leads into the gardens with our maze, letting in a lot of light so we wouldn't use so much electricity.

"It's just the way I work," Sylar laughed, echoing off the walls. "Mia! Some champagne please!"

"Ugh . . ." I grumbled. "I need some."

I sat up, just as the doorbell rang and my head snapped around to smirk at Sylar.

"Hmm . . ." I tried to hide my sarcasm as much as I could. "I _wonder_ who _that_ could be?"

"Shut up," Sylar muttered, taking a step and suddenly appearing at the door, which was 20 yards away.

_Speed_. One of his many talents that he 'has'.

"Hey Ashley," I called, grabbing a glass of champagne from Mia, setting the glasses and large bottles onto the spotless table.

"Vasanti," she smirked at me, sitting across from me with Sylar, hand in hand. "How are you?"

"Tired, but . . . fine," I said, taking a sip out of my glass, the burning sensation soothing my parched throat.

Ashley Berkof was a quiet girl who Sylar had fallen for at the instant his eyes laid on her because of _some_ weird reason. She has short, dark brown hair and beautiful, flawless brown eyes with a golden crown. She was as tall as Sylar, and they held hands a lot, which made _me_ the one who felt awkward.

Ashley had no ability though, so Sylar was more relaxed around her, not having the urge to take her power; along with her life.

"Well . . ." I smiled, showing my perfectly straight teeth. "Sylar, take me to my room please?"

He shook his head as I looked up at him, setting my glass down as he kissed her forehead, making me feel _really_ discomfited now. His hand jerked around with an unseen force, sending me, with my backpack in hand—full speed—up the spiraling flight of stairs and into my room; the door slamming against my back as I toppled to the floor.

Leaping on my bed, I laughed, flipping on the small, hand-held T.V. I had on my bed. My room is a bright yellow color, a portrait of an ice castle right across from my bed so I can stare at it when I go to sleep.

My orange covers of my bed matched my room, so bright and open. My dark red drapes on the window of my balcony didn't really match, but I liked the blood red color of them. The thing I liked the most, was my mother's lamp, it was a deep yellow color with orange polka dots on it.

"Our nation _was_ divided, but _now_, it has united, _as one_!" The senator of our Northern Colonies yelled (North America is _old_ news, especially after we _lost _the Iraq war. So long U.S.A., buh-bye!)

The senator rejoiced with his fist in the air, his suit with a tie the color of the sunset red made no difference in his speech, or the world, if I could help it. His good looks didn't matter in politics, only if he wanted to be a firefighter, like _every _person his age would do to serve the country.

I couldn't _believe_ they would let a 25-year-old be a senator of _such_ a large country like the Northern Colonies.

His short, gelled back hair gleamed in the light as the cameras flashed, the golden-hazel-honey eyes iridescent with excitement, his smile piercing everywhere, trying to satisfy the countries' thirst for his smile, laying one on the camera that was taping this session.

"Fake," I rolled my eyes.

_That was him_.

Senator Petrelli.

Senator Petrelli these days was almost as special as the president, which didn't really add up so much.

Senator _Nathan_ Petrelli.

He had a million brothers scattered around the Northern Colonies, and it wasn't hard to guess that they were all _Solitudes_.

My phone suddenly vibrated violently in my pocket, the tune dancing playfully as my polished fingernails pressed a button, answering.

"Sarah," I said in a sweet voice. "What's hot?"

"Tonight, a party at the garage downtown," Sarah had a begging sound to her voice. "C'mon, let's go. Liz will be there too."

"Umm . . ." I whispered. "He might be a bit _busy_ tonight. Maybe I should go out for a bit."

"_Busy_ eh?" Sarah giggled along with me.

"Just wait a second," I said.

I stepped out of the door, ready to slide down the railing, but stopped dead in my tracks. I think it'd be best if I just holler.

"Sylar!" I shouted, clearly, it was loud enough for him to hear. "I'm going to a party in a few hours!"

There was a silence, loud enough for someone to go insane, but suddenly, all the doors started slamming to catch my attention, open and closed. His door flew open and closed three times.

One slam meant: no way.

Two slams meant: yes.

Three slams meant: I'll see you _before_ you leave.

Four slams meant: you're grounded if you try to bribe me.

I smiled as I shrunk back into my room, tearing my walk in closet door open, taking a deep breath of the amazing smell of clothes. I pressed a button for my party clothes and a door opened, exposing a closet full of dresses and accessories.

My fingers ran along the fine cloths, waiting for a fabric that felt good along my fingers. My hand stopped at a fabric that seemed to be a short pattern along the rims.

Pulling it out and examining the neon-blue dress, I pressed it against my body, trying to see if it would work. It slimmed at the chest and waist, then flared out to the knees.

"I might as well try it on," I muttered, smirking.

There was a tied pattern down the side of the dress, running down my hips, almost like a corset and the strap ran across my chest, wrapping around my bicep.

Twirling, I looked at myself in the mirror. Stunning. The bottom part of my dress swished against my legs, making me feel amazing as I stepped into a pair of silver flats with a bow on the ends.

I clasped a single bangle onto my right wrist, the silver metal inscribed in small lettering that I hadn't noticed before.

_Find who you are inside, without losing others._

I closed my closet with a single button, stepping out the doors as Mia was cleaning up my room, which was almost spotless.

"Thanks for plugging in my hair-straightener," I smiled, tapping her shoulder. "You can have a break; if he starts anything—I'm sure he won't—you just tell him Ms. Gray said you could take a break. Where is he now?"

"Showing Ms. Berkof the gardens, ma'am," Mia whispered.

"Ah," I smiled, 'gardens' also meant making out in the maze. "You may have your break now."

"Thank you, Ms. Gray," Mia nodded, stepping out of the room. "Don't forget to turn off the straightener after you're done; it's been on for quite some time."

I nodded, combing my hair through, and then threaded my hair through the straightener, trying not to burn my hair.

***

A few hours later, I stepped out of my room, my eyes lightly drawn with eyeliner and eye shadow, my lips glossed with a shimmering clear gloss.

"Vasanti," Sylar whispered as I stepped out on the first floor.

I scowled at him sheepishly as Sylar stepped up to me with his hands looped with Ashley's, smiling at me.

Double blinking for a few seconds, I tried to decipher their thoughts as I tilted my head. I finally gave up after a few seconds of confusion, throwing my hands up in defeat.

"What?" I cried.

"You look . . . nice . . ." he muttered, his hands flying up and down my dress. "_Beautiful_ to be exact."

"Whatever. May I leave now?" I grumbled, dancing towards the door.

Sylar nodded, wrapping a hand around Ashley and pressing his lips to her hair and gliding away from her. I turned around and shook my head frantically, pressing my hands for him to stop.

"No, Sylar," I whispered. "_Stay. Here._ I'll have Samuels take me down."

"Don't let Sarah kill you," Sylar glared at me. "I'm _serious_ now."

"Yes, yes, yes," I scoffed.

Pulling the door open, I again, stepped into the blinding light, greeted with the engine of Samuels' car.

"Thank you, Samuels," I said, climbing into the limo, his window partly open. "You must be tired."

"It's a pleasure to serve you, Ms. Gray," Samuels nodded to me with his hazel-green eyes, his almost-silver hair short as he grew older. "My hearing is always going to improve if I practice."

I nodded in understanding. Samuels may be old, but his ability made him unique in our household. He could hear from _miles_ away, and know where we needed to go before we even asked him. It was difficult to have a person with an ability in the house we lived in, but Sylar had promised he wouldn't kill Samuels . . . yet.

***

We stopped outside the club, the garage doors seeming to shake with momentum from the music. Samuels winced, eyebrows rising.

"I can't believe this is how you young'uns spend your time," Samuels grumbled.

"Samuels," I laughed "this is a place where everyone can be one, and we're all different in a special way. It's where we can b e whoever we want."

"Well then," Samuels said. "I may have misjudged you, Ms. Gray."

"I'll call you when I need you," I stopped. "Great. I forgot my cell."

"I can't hear you from home, but try to give a call," he whispered. "G'day, Ms. Gray."

I stepped out of the car, the wind slapping against my knees. I smirked as I opened the door of the club, the warm, welcoming air rushing to greet me.

The lights flew by, spinning around the room as bodies moved in sync. _The Solitudes_ with _Solitudes_ and _Villias_ with _Villias_, _none_ of them mixed together.

People who were drinking by the counter in the front of the club looked up to stare at me, their lips a faint red, dripping with liquid as the disco lights flew around. _The Solitudes_ really _did_ look like thugs, their black leather jackets and cold stares towards a sister of a _Villia_.

Sarah and Liz jumped next to me, Sarah's hands flickering with her fire power towards me. Her dark, golden brown hair was in a ponytail, her beautiful brown eyes with a flickering fire around her pupils. She was in a pair of skinny jeans, her t-shirt with a print that seemed to hug her. Sarah and Liz were both 17-years-old, a year older than me, but we still hung out together like sisters.

Liz had the power of controlling the weather, and her brown roots with blonde, really stuck out as the lights reflected off of her hair, her light blue eyes gleaming.

Liz was just a special person like that. Controlling the weather could put _all_ the meteorologists in the world out of a job. The weather portrayed to her moods and what she wanted the weather to be. When she didn't really care, she let Mother Nature take care of it, but when she was mad, she'd work up a massive thunder storm, severe winds and large hail that slammed against the _entire_ Northern Colonies. If she was _furious_, she could conjure up tsunamis, tornadoes and hurricanes also.

When she was scared, there was fog, the thicker it was, the more scared she was. When she was happy, there was a bright sun, gleaming in the morning and the dew was visible beautifully. When she was sad, it was nearly heartbreaking because rain pattered lightly on buildings like tears.

Sarah flipped her wrist and I stopped her as she was about to throw it on the ground.

"Sylar says he'll _kill_ you if we do that again," I warned, my gloss shimmering as my eyes stayed put, only my mouth moving.

Our last attempt to make frozen fire, wanting to see the neon blue flaring like in a fantasy was a bad idea for our first time.

Combining powers had happened only once before; a million years ago when our kind was created, but they were the founders of _The Solitudes_ group. One person had a power of the sun, and another who had a power of the moon; when they had combined their powers, they created a sunset.

The last time we tried to create a frozen fire, we nearly killed each other. Sarah was the one who started to freeze, her fingers drained of blood and I was the one who burned up and fell down before we could know what happened.

Sylar had to throw me on the ground over and over, hitting my head and shove water down my throat for me to escape my unconscious state.

"Well, I must not mess with that then," Sarah smirked at me, looking over her shoulder as a boy walked by, eyeing her playfully. "Oh, hey, it's Dal, the guy who's always getting in trouble. The _bad boy_."

His cheek lifted up, as if he was smiling and he swiped his dark black hair; looking back at her with his unusual color eyes of blue. He was always wearing black and he _was_ kind of the ones who would be emo-ish.

"Sarah's going to go _grab_ some trouble now," Liz laughed, leaning against me as Sarah stalked Dal. "Well, you have fun hun, I've got to go see Liam."

"Ah, you hooked up with the bartender?" I smiled at her as she waved to me, stalking away in her stunning green dress, wrapping around her body like silk and consuming her as she disappeared.

That wasn't good. If Sylar found out that Liz was dating a _Solitude_, he'd blow up. I couldn't believe I had to lie to my brother, but I loved Liz, she was my best friend; I couldn't lose her like this.

I stepped up to the counter, ordering anything that would make a spark go off in my body. The bartender, Arein poured the drink into a large cup, handing it to me and nodding, his dark brown curls falling over his face, hiding his gorgeous gray eyes.

"Hey, Vasanti," Arein laughed at my wincing face as I sipped the drink he gave me, the burning sensation hitting a spark inside of me. "Freeze the ice for me back here."

He gestured me towards the stainless steel freezer. I smirked, jumping off the counter and into the back, flinging open the freezer and pressing my lips to the side and backing up as the ice crackled, spreading throughout the freezer, the water crackling as it started to freeze.

I smacked my lips as I leapt over the counter to my seat again.

"Good enough for you?"

"Perfect."

Arein turned around to let me drink, taking another order. As I took a second sip, the spicy taste of the wine made my nerves jump as the acid ran down my parched throat, soothing. Within a few minutes, I had indulged the entire glass, setting the bottle on the counter, waiting for a refill.

"Arein, sparkling water please," a voice called beside me, the seat suddenly being occupied.

I turned to look at him, my eyes trying to wander, but I managed to see his features. He had dark, cold brown eyes and his hair was a brown that he could have only been born with, combed back, his bangs covering his face.

_Peter Petrelli_.

Great, a new friend to make.

"Aren't you a bit too _young_ to be drinking?" he asked.

"Excuse me?" I scoffed. "How old are _you_?"

"I'm 18," he said, rolling his eyes as he took a sip of his 'sparkling water.' "You look younger."

"I'm 16 and I take things to my advantage," I growled.

He was getting to me, and I couldn't let him take over. I inched closer to him, my fingers about to go insane.

"Vasanti?" a familiar voice cried.

I turned around and nearly screamed.

"No way! Rachel!" I cried, jumping up to hug her. "How have you been?"

Rachel was my best friend in school, even though she was 2 years older than me; we did everything together, getting into the teacher's heads at school to search for answers or to make him _think_ that we were working on our tests when we were really using our book to cheat. But after she became a _Solitude_ when she exposed herself to the world, Sylar banned me from talking to her ever again. I haven't seen her around these parts since high school.

She had the power of manipulating and reading minds. Her short blonde hair and bangs crossed her face and her blue-gray eyes flickered as she ran through my mind, a pushing sensation running through my mind. She skimmed the faint memories of middle school, and I smiled.

She laughed, tapping me on the nose as she circled around Peter, her hand wrapping around him, her head resting on his shoulder.

Of course she would be with Peter. She was perfect with him, and nothing would dare to go between them. They were both _Solitudes_. I wonder what kind of love affair would happen if a _Solitude_ fell for a _Villia_. I smiled as she read my thoughts, keeping her hysteria to herself.

"Yes, Peter _is_ amazing," Rachel sighed. "Although he's three months younger than me."

Peter was a unique person. He was able to take a person's power with a single touch voluntarily, so he could keep a power for as long as he wanted to, but when he took another power, his power that he recently had, was dropped, meaning, he could only have one power—or ability—at a time.

He was normally the person who was flying everyday around town, but I remember one day when he had the power of reading the minds of a cashier at a store. He must have access to the flying power every other day.

"How about you?" Peter smiled at me after Rachel whispered my thoughts to him. "I could—"

"Hook me up," I growled. "No thank you."

My vision suddenly started to blur as I took another sip of the refilled drink, setting it on the table with a large thump. I was losing my capability to lift things.

"You're a pretty girl . . . a _Villia_ to be exact . . . on the East-Central coast of the Northern Colonies," Peter observed. "_You_ should be the_ one_ girl who's taken by someone who has . . . _power_."

"Like the _president_!" Rachel squealed.

"Yeah . . . he's what? 30 years older than me?" I jeered, shaking my head.

"I was _thinking_ . . ." Peter started, and Rachel shut him up, throwing her hand over his mouth, her eyes darting somewhere as she whispered to him.

"Umm . . . bye . . . I've got to go," I muttered, stumbling off my chair as I hugged Rachel one last time. "I hope I'll see you around."

"I missed you," Rachel whispered, pulling out her cell phone. "Number?"

I typed in my number, taking a few seconds to try and decipher the numbers on the small keys.

"It was nice meeting you Peter," I waved as I inched closer to the dance floor.

My head snapped around as I heard Liz giggling, her dress draping to the floor as she crossed her legs, leaning on the table, conversing with Liam, who was _way_ too spicy and hot for me to be with. He had short dark brown hair that was spiked up, that he flipped flirtatiously, and he was in a white t-shirt and khaki pants.

His hand was on Liz's and he whispered words to her that I couldn't understand. I couldn't see his eyes, but they seemed to be a bright hazel color, gleaming.

"I'm a healer," he whispered.

"Well then . . . can you heal my broken heart?" Liz smirked at her good comeback.

He laughed charmingly, his hand tracing up her arm towards her scar, tapping on it as it suddenly disappeared.

"I'm sure I could make that work . . ."

I groaned as my vision blurred slightly, just enough that I couldn't see what color his eyes were anymore, just blended together images.

"May I be of assistance, young lady?" a voice boomed behind me, making me jump. "A bit too much to drink?"

"Excuse me?" I said, slurring.

"Care to dance?"

"Whatever," I didn't know where the anger was coming from, it just started to spew out of me and I couldn't stop. "I need something to do here."

I waited for him to trace his perverted hands up my hips like everyone else, but he only took my fingers on both hands, lifting them up until it rested on his shoulder.

A sad, slow song went on; my head looked up for the person who was looking out for 'hooking up' couples.

"Liam," I muttered under my breath.

He was the one who was in charge of the music, his mind a music machine.

"Why do they do this?" I growled, swearing that I'd get my revenge.

He seemed to be shaking with laughter as he looked at me, my head laying on his shoulder as I started to slip into drowsiness. Something about him was familiar as I looked at him, from his shoulder. He seemed to have the features of Sylar, but he had a deep shape under his chin, seeming to a scab . . . or a scar. I couldn't believe I could actually see it, because it was such a light color, but it was the only thing I could see in this view.

"Name?" he asked, seeming to smile.

"Vasanti Gray."

I moved to the side, my dress brushing against his leg as I twirled around, stopping as I lay in his arms, looking up at him, trying to look at his eyes.

"Wow . . . Vasanti," he whispered. "You seem a bit _young_ to be at a club."

"I'm 16," I muttered, hopefully for the last day today.

They let 17-year-olds come in; they should let 16-year-olds come in too!

"I have parental consent to be here."

My hair brushed against my face as I rapidly stood up, covering my face. His hand brushed against my face, his warm touch came along with a spark; which meant he had a power also. He brushed the hair behind my ear, my eyes trying to meet his, but I was drunk—or buzzed; I couldn't look into his eyes without my eyes wandering.

"Oh, do you?" he shook his head. "If you're 16 . . . then maybe I shouldn't be dancing with you."

My eyes drooped, and I gripped harder onto his shoulder, my nails just about to start digging into his skin, but he was wearing a type of rich cloth.

I took in a deep breath, and abruptly, my world nearly went crashing. I blinked a few times, trying to focus, just in case I was hallucinating. My head hung on his suit, about to fall off the edge. I breathed heavily on his neck, taking in the smell that was indescribable with all the words in the world.

I licked my lips, trying to moisten them as they started to go dry, and my world spinning; luckily—not crashing.

His smell was a strong one, as if he flew through the sky, catching clouds full of rich, luscious flavor, and buried them inside of him so he could have the scents.

It was like heaven's plateful of smells.

"Vasanti?" he called. "Are you . . ."

"I'm not fine, but who cares now?"

_No use lying_.

I smiled as he led me to a seat, setting me down before he sat down on a chair. My mind seemed to be high and off course today if he was scared that I was going to fall off my chair.

"So . . . what are you around here?" he questioned, a figure—his elbow?—leaned on the counter.

"My brother's a big part of _The Villias_," I warned, clenching my fist.

"Ah, interesting," he said, clearly not heeding my warning. "I'm a . . ."

He stopped as I inched closer to him, wanting him to shut up _so_ badly. People didn't come to this club to talk about our differences, where we were from; we were here to show off, and this was my way I'd show off. I could see him a _bit_ more clearly, still blurry though, but he hesitated, and then went for the kill.

The garage doors suddenly flew open, the music died as everyone turned to stare at . . . _Sylar._ I gasped, jumping from my seat as all my senses abruptly slammed back to me, jumping in front of the person.

I could not see everything clearly, but I didn't want to look back at the person or else Sylar would know . . . if he didn't' know already.

Peter lunged protectively for the person behind me as the crowd circled around us, spreading out for the showdown.

"Vasanti, we're leaving. _Now_." Sylar growled.

Sylar's shirt was partly undone, flying about, his hands balled into fists and ready to kill.

Rachel and Peter blocked the person's face out of my view, Sylar's hands flinging and sent all three of them crashing into the concrete wall, chunks of rock falling on the ground.

"Sylar! Don't!" I screamed, rushing towards him, but he flung me back with a flick of a wrist, making me crash into the counter, my body slamming onto the floor of crushed glass.

The wind that was knocked out of me made me cough, as I tried to stand up, my dress was now stained with a crimson red, my hands starting to bleed. I coughed, my eyes darting towards my mystery dancer, wincing.

"You! _Solitudes_!" Sylar grimaced in disgust as he said their name; the taste of the word was like acid in his mouth. "_Get. Out_. Before I have the urge to _kill_ you."

I picked myself up, grabbing the counter for support, trying not to fall as the blood dripped down my leg from my knee.

The garage door flew up behind them, an opportunity for them to go and they fled for the door, but not with fear.

Peter and Rachel stepped out of the door first, Rachel looking back at me with a concerned face, clutching Peter's shoulder, trying to balance him as he clutched onto her and flew into the sky. Following them . . . was my mystery man.

Now, I could finally tell what he was wearing. An expensive gray-colored suit with a red tie, hazel-gold eyes that stared at Sylar in disgust and a grimace worn on his perfect face as he looked up at me, holding back his anguish.

I nearly toppled over, hitting my head again on the glass, but I blinked, holding onto a beam, just in case.

His familiarity struck me with so much force that I could have fainted that instant that he pressed his forehead to the sky, his arms clasped at his sides, his arrow-looking scar catching my eyes as the light peach color struck my eyes.

With a small puff of smoke whooshing behind him as he flew into the sky, disappearing into the clouds, he closed his eyes.

_Petrelli._

But not just _any_ Petrelli.

It was _him_.

The person they trusted to be a ruler someday. The person who was _supposedly_ human to _so_ _many_ others, even though I just saw him take off into the sky.

_It was him_.

_**Senator Nathan Petrelli**_**. **

~End of Chapter One~

_**Guess what? even in the future-GENERATIONS from now, they have a button--yeah--the green one that says REVIEW! pretty plzz!**_


	2. My Summoning

~Our Notion~

*My Summoning*

"What the_ hell_ were you doing?" Sylar growled, crossing his arms and leaning back on the couch, staring at me. "Did you _know_ how much that vision scared me? Him dragging you into a hotel room and his dirty _Solitude_ hands all over your body?"

I sighed, huffing in jagged breaths of air as I tried to take out the glass that penetrated through my hands, my dress now an ugly stained color of brown and crimson. Sometimes, I wished that Sylar hadn't stolen the 'future reading' ability from that fortune teller.

"I'm 16! I should be allowed to have _fun_!" I screamed, standing up, throwing the gauze on the ground after I wrapped it around my arm. "How was _I_ supposed to know he was _Nathan Petrelli_?"

"You _should_ know that you don't kiss the first person you dance with!" Sylar yelled over me. "It's dangerous and _not_ how you fall in love!"

Anger engulfed inside of me, screaming to be let out as I protested. How _dare_ he tell me how to live my life! I was living my own life while he was out smooching in the gardens, who does he think he is? My father?

"But that's how you met _Ashley_! You two are in love _now_!" I shrieked. "You're 18 and _already_ intimate!"

"That's because I'm older!" Sylar said, towering over me. "I'm allowed to be in love!"

"Does that mean I'm _not_?" I cried, tears starting to trickle, but I quickly wiped them away.

"No you are _not_!"

"Does that mean that you don't _want_ me to fall in love?" I screeched. "Does _that_ mean that you'll block out all the other people in my life so I can't experience love _either_?"

Tears sprung to my eyes at that exact moment, my emotions getting the best of me, running out of the house, my tears turning to ice as they streamed down my face, clinking and shattering as they made contact with the force of gravity.

I ran into the garden gates, flinging them open as I plopped down with the large, colorful garden, sitting in the middle of the city of flowers, my hand tracing against the delicate blooms. A sudden emotional push came from inside, a cool sensation overcoming my body as my finger froze the lily.

"Lily," I whispered my mother's name. "I'm sorry."

The ice swirled around the white lily, giving it a blue tint to it, shining like a crystal in the clouded sun. I sighed, running my fingers around the lily as it melted in the bright sunlight peeking from the clouds.

I yelled out a screech, plucking the flower out of the ground with its roots—frozen—and threw it on the ground, shattering into broken flower petals.

"Why'd you leave so quickly?" I screamed at the wilting flower beneath me. "I never got to see your face! Hear your voice! Look into your eyes . . . feel your touch . . .!"

I trailed off, turning around abruptly and slowly stepped towards one of our many angel fountains, spewing out water from the top. I slipped off my shoes, my feet splashing in the water as I sat on the edge, the water up to my knees as I stopped splashing.

Experimenting out here was the best thing to do when I was angry. My world circled and I pushed out my ability out through my skin, the water crackling into ice within a few seconds.

The icy water, probably below zero, felt cool under my skin like a blanket. My skin reacted well with my powers, they never seemed to freeze or boil, my skin was unique, immune to my powers, protecting me from myself.

I smiled as I tried to make the level to boil, to hear the crackling of all the ice melting. The sudden heat caught the ice by surprise, making it jump as it tried to get away, the chunks of ice dipping into the water in defeat.

I stopped, the water not boiling yet because I didn't want the statue to fall in either.

"Vasanti," Sylar called behind me as the water started to calm.

My head snapped around to glare at Sylar, brushing away a stray strand of hair as I leapt out of the pond, grabbing my shoes and rushing past him.

"Now, wait just a second," he muttered, staring right into my eyes. "We need to _talk_."

"No. We _don't_," I huffed under my breath.

"We need to start understanding each other," he whispered.

My senses were suddenly overpowered with mixed emotions; pain, anger, grief. Anger was the one who took over my body as I spun around, my hand slapping across his cheek, his head turning around in pain.

"_Understand each other_? We don't need to understand each other!" I screamed. "_You_ should understand me the _best_ because, guess what? _Your. My. Brother_!"

I stomped off, huffing in breaths jaggedly.

"V," Sylar grabbed my arm.

"Don't use my nickname on me!" I shrieked.

My hand slammed into his chest, and he fell onto the ground, suddenly turning to ice; protruding from where I had hit him.

I sniffled and ran into the houses, past Samuels and Mia, my door slamming as I leapt onto my bed, crying as my head dug into the pillow.

Looking up, I could hear their grunts as Samuels and Mia helped Sylar into the house, his frozen body only _starting_ to thaw. I flipped on the T.V., throwing it onto the bed, the volume rising as the president gave a speech, his cabinet beside him. I hated how we lived near the capital, where _everything_ was associated with politics.

I slipped into a pair of kapris and a t-shirt, almost time for dinner, but I just wanted to go to sleep; this had been a horrible day. I pulled my hair up, pinning it into a bun as I looked out my window.

I opened the door for my balcony, the doors flying open and smashing into the wall as I stepped out, the drapes flying like wings in the sunset light. My hand traced against the railings and flower decorations, my head lying on the flowers as they brushed against my face.

An eagle from above called, and I looked up into the sky, our mail bird calling.

"Mail time," I muttered.

Our transportation of mail was now different than before; we had eagles send them to us, because they were more 'reliable' and had something placed in their minds so they'd obey.

The letters dropped onto my balcony floor like a brick, just as the president announced something in a loud voice.

"We are sending out a single invitation for a white house tour, and only one person will be lucky enough to get the letter. That person will get an opportunity in the future for tuition if they'd like to go into politics," our president smiled at the cameras. "Please, if you receive the letter with the official stamp, turn yourself in. You won't regret it."

I gaped at the single letter that I held in my trembling hand. My finger traced against the seal of the president's and I gasped, the golden stamp still warm from a few hours ago.

Tearing the letter open, my eyes scanned the page, a band falling out from the envelope a single band that had a bar code on it, a name printed on it.

_My name_.

Dear Ms. Vasanti Gray,

Congratulations, I have explicitly selected you for a meticulous reason. I'd like _you_ to be someone—on the narrow strip of our future—who will change the nation. I believe you should get used to the White House and its members, for you will be there quite often during your summertime.

We both know that you are off the charts for your class of History, Debate, and Politics, which makes you more than qualified for a job in the White House. Ms. Gray, we need you in our organization.

Please forgive me if you are offended, or feel as if you are stereotyped, because I believe you belong here with us in his old city where the Statue of Liberty, labels our success.

Sincerely,

Arigha Marahid

Yes, our president is from the Middle East, but he is a _great_ president, and we're lucky to have him as our president. He's a large supporter of _Villias_, and Sylar is one of the big leaders for the _Villias_, so he must want _me_ to be the next . . . _president_?

I felt miserable that someone—the president—would think that _I'd_ make a great leader. We hadn't had a women run since Hillary Clinton in the 2008-2009 election for Democratic, and that was a while ago (I've got to say; President Obama back then, _really_ changed the lives of others).

I shrugged the feeling off, shoving the letter into my navy-blue backpack in the corner of my room and forgetting about it . . . for now.

I rushed down the stairs and into the kitchen, sitting at the table that seated four people as Mia walked in with a tray of food, setting it in front of me.

Sighing, I ate my dinner in silence, the ravioli tasting like plastic and the fruits tasting like it were moldy. I was too familiar to this routine every day at this time; eating alone with three empty seats.

Gulping down the water, trying to swallow the plastic-like chunks, I turned into the large living room, slamming into Sylar, drying his hair with a blue towel. He was in a new pair of clothes, a t-shirt and a pair of plaid pajama pants. He stared at me like I didn't belong, his eyes questioning me from inside: why are you here? What are you to me?

"I'm . . . I . . ." he stuttered, trying to find the words.

I threw my arms around him, embracing him into a hug; my eyes closed as I inhaled, my minty, vapor-ice smell of my ability still lingering on him.

"You were being my brother," I whispered, smiling. "That's the least I can ask of you."

He patted me on my back, a smirk spreading on his face as I climbed up the stairs, waving to me.

I stepped into my room, closing the drapes as I leapt onto my bed, flipping on my stereo on my desk across from the bed. I tuned the music down low as I dimmed the lights, snuggling under the covers and closing my eyes; a bright blue darkness overcoming.

***

I woke up with a jolt as my shades suddenly flew open, the sunlight reflecting off of the brightly colored wall and into my eyes.

"Rise and shine, Icebeam!" Sylar yelled, fully dressed in his work clothes for the auto factory.

"I'm up!" I screamed, jumping off my bed and pushing him out the door. "I've got to change, go to work!"

I slipped into a t-shirt with a dog print on it, skinny jeans and picked a pair of chucks as I tied my hair into a high ponytail, grabbing my backpack as I rushed down the flight of stairs.

Gulping down my breakfast in a few bites nearly choked me, but the French toast and orange juice soothed my empty stomach's deprivation.

Mia took away my breakfast and nodded to me as I told her to make herself at home, grabbing my make up and standing in the mirror in the bathroom, applying mascara on my eyelashes and lip gloss on my lips.

"Ms. Gray," Samuels muttered. "A ride to school today?"

"No thank you, Samuels," I whispered, smiling at him. "I'm early, but you can pick me up after school today."

"Yes, ma'am."

I skipped out of the gates, the city starting to come into view as I rushed by, my backpack slapping against my back. As I passed the alley I took for a shortcut to get to school, I could hear yelling as someone was getting mugged.

Stepping closer to get a better look, the three dark faces hovered over the helpless man as they attacked him, grabbing everything he had, which was _nothing_. They were beating him up for fun! The nerve of some people!

As I stepped closer, quietly, I saw their faces.

_Villias_.

Of course.

I flipped a stray strand of hair away from my face as I straightened my t-shirt, intercepting in their 'fun.'

"What the hell are you doing?" I screamed, pushing them away as I helped the man up.

They lunged towards me and ice frolicked along my fingers as I warned them, smirking.

"_Step. Away_. Now." I warned.

One of the men pulled out a gun and I blasted the gun into an icicle with out touching it, falling to the ground as the weapon felt colder than Antarctica.

"Icicle anyone?" I taunted.

Fear crossed their faces, rushing off into the darkness as they yelled out at me.

"Are you okay?" I muttered to the man behind me.

"Yes, thank you young lady," he said gruffly. "Not many people have the courage to step up."

"May I buy you some breakfast?" I suddenly offered, feeling generous of my thirty minutes I had.

"Please," he nearly begged.

I smiled, grabbing his arm as we were visible through the sunlight, stepping into the closest restaurant, leading him to a table, glaring at the waiter who tried to discontinue us.

"Get him something," I growled under my breath "or I'll find out."

He looked at his glass cup as I touched it, starting to freeze, nodding.

I sat down next to the man, his long coat and eyes a calm brown color, and along with his long hair, he surely looked as if he was homeless. I pulled out my wallet from my backpack and slipped him a hundred dollar bill.

"Take it, no questions," I said, folding it into his rough hands and standing up, nodding to him.

I slipped the waiter a twenty dollar bill and headed for the door.

"Wait!" he called to me from his seat, standing up. "Thanks. More _Villias_ should be like you; I hope you consider being a leader someday. You'll change the world."

"You're welcome," I whispered, closing my eyes as I ran out of the door, running to school.

_I hope you consider being a leader someday._

Those words echoed inside my head, and I couldn't ignore them because I knew they were true; I _could_ change the world, one life at a time.

_You'll change the _world_._

_***_

"_Vasanti_!" Sarah muttered, my head snapping up. "Wake up! Mrs. Jarson is going to blow a fuse!"

"What was Arigha Marahid's address yesterday for?" Mrs. Jarson repeated, the question obviously meant for me. "We _just_ went over it."

"He invited one person to the White House who he thought might be a good world leader or a leader in the future of our Northern Colonies," I answered clearly. "He believes this person will change the world, that the Statue of Liberty is a label of our success in this new nation."

"Why do you believe that?" Mrs. Jarson said, clearly surprised and caught off guard. "These are _not_ the reasons we just discussed, but . . . they are good theories for debating."

"I'm not going to debate," I scoffed. "These are _facts_."

"And how may you prove yourself?"

"Because, he said it in his letter . . . to _me_," I sighed. "I'm the one who's going to meet the president."

I pulled out the letter and waved it into the air, the seal gleaming in the sun that streamed through the windows.

"Oh, my lord," Mrs. Jarson said in a daze. "Meeting the . . ."

"Nerd," I muttered under my breath.

"Read it to us, will you?" She asked, in the stages of early hysterics.

The bell instantly rang out at that instant and I disappeared into the crowd as I tried to avoid my nerdy World Studies teacher.

"Are you _serious_?" Sarah and Liz cried, rushing to my side, their backpacks slung over their shoulder. "You should feel so special!"

"Well . . . I _have_ wanted to meet the president . . ." I whispered.

"Well then," Liz smiled at me. "When you see him this Saturday, have fun with all the history!"

"In two days," I muttered. "Whatever."

I departed as I stopped at my locker, flinging it open and throwing my backpack over my shoulder and stopping at the door as the sunlight poured. Liz was _way_ too happy these days with Liam, I think we needed some rain—without messing with her emotions.

Sighing, I stared at the limos that stretched along the front of the schools, a few cars now and then parked between. A few drivers of a limo and from a car were arguing, their hands waving frantically at each other. Even the _drivers_ were categorized.

I slipped into the car, throwing my backpack in first, sinking into my seat as we drove off, past all the other cars.

"Sylar?" I asked, the letter tucked behind my back, hidden. "I have something to tell you."

"Hmm?"

"I . . . I . . ." I stuttered. "I'm meeting the president."

Pulling out my invitation and handing it to him, I waited for him to blow up. He hated when I was invited all the celebrations for my high-standard classes that invited me to fancy places. Sylar stared at the note, sighing as he handed it back to me.

"I should have known he'd do this," Sylar scoffed. "Arigha is setting you up with a future. You either choose it, or you don't."

Sylar didn't leave me any room to choose, it was as if this didn't mean a thing to him. _I_ didn't mean a thing to him; I was just something that stood in the way of his perfect-killing-spree-life without me.

"Arigha is the beset president we've had since we've lost the war," Sylar nodded. "You deserve to finally meet one of our great leaders—face to face."

"I'm so—"

My cell phone rang, cutting me off. I tugged the BlackBerry out of my pocket and answered into the 'unknown' caller.

"Hello? Vasanti Gray speaking," I said, my voice sounding surprised for some reason.

"Ah, yes," a voice whispered. "Ms. Gray, this is Arigha Marahid speaking. Have you accepted my offer?"

I squealed, throwing the phone to Sylar as he stared at me in confusion. Samuels was already smiling at me from the mirror, shaking his head as I nearly burst out screaming.

"Ah, hello Mr. President," Sylar smirked as Arigha talked to him. "Yes, she _will_ be coming, and I'll make _sure_ of it."

There was a pause as the president spoke. Sylar's eyebrows rose at me, a sly smile spreading across his face, making me shift.

"Really?" Sylar chuckled, handing me the phone.

"Ms. Gray, please keep your letter to yourself, make sure to remain inconspicuous," Arigha whispered. "But it's okay if you've already told a few; you will be known the nation for a week or so. Sylar will tell you the _surprise_ we're having when you see us this weekend."

"Yes, Mr. President," I mumbled, letting him hang up first.

I shoved the phone into my pocket, stepping out of the car as we halted to a stop.

"What's the surprise?" I cried, stepping into the house, my voice echoing with the new golden chandelier above. "_What is it_?"

"Wow, you _are_ impatient when it comes to surprises," Sylar laughed. "It's nothing much."

"What is it? _What is it_?" I yelled, about to run up to him and start screaming.

"Okay, okay, Icebeam," Sylar cried out, making me sit down before he told me. "They're having a 'royal' ball this weekend with _you_ as the center of attention. You'll be escorted home with two limos, one to guard you and another to pick up your friends up after you've _dressed up_."

My mouth fell to the floor, staring at Sylar in shock.

"You said . . . _dress up_?" I squealed.

Sylar waved a credit card at me. "Directly from. The. President." Sylar laughed at my face. "More money than you can _imagine_."

"OhMyGod," I cried.

"We're going to the mall tomorrow," Sylar whispered. "Whoever's coming to the ball with you, they'd better come with the mall with us."

"Are you bringing Ashley?" I asked, curious if Liz and Sarah could bring their 'dates' also.

"Yeah, she'd like that," Sylar smiled, lost in his own trail of thoughts.

I slipped into my room and pulled out my homework, throwing myself on my bed and cranking up my radio. I pulled out my phone and dialed Sarah and Liz, explaining to them with much enthusiasm.

"Liz?" I said before I had to hang up.

"Hmm?"

"Could you . . . _not_ tell Sylar you're dating a _Solitude_?" I asked, guilt weighing on me as Liz went quiet.

"Yeah, I'll pass it on to Liam to not act like a _Solitude_," Liz answered before I hung up. "See you tomorrow."

As they hung up, a thought struck me, hard and painfully. I laid in my bed and sighed as the pain shot through my body.

My problem?

_I didn't have anyone to go with. _

I sighed, closing my eyes and letting time pass by, and the pain deceasing as my thoughts disappeared, music lyrics taking place.

~End of Chapter Two~

**_*REVIEW PLEASE!*_**


	3. The One

~Our Notion~

(i couldn't think of a chapter title, so i just made it up)

*The One*

"I hope you didn't mind," I whispered through the window as everyone stepped out; seven people total (I was the odd one out).

"Anything for the president, Ms. Gray," Samuels nodded, smiling as he drove off.

I stepped into the mall quietly, trailing behind as they lead us through the four story building. I watched in agony as Ashley's hand held onto Sylar's, her head lying on his shoulder, giggling as he talked; purse slung over her shoulder. Liz held onto Liam's hand, swinging back and forth as they strode along and Sarah's arm quietly linked with Dal's, her head resting on his shoulder.

I sulked, keeping my feelings to myself as I was the caboose. To face it, I never really thought about hooking up. I felt as if I'd always fit in like that, so people wouldn't think I was a _whore_ or anything.

We arrived at a place called _Vivi's_ a _great_ friend of mine—not so much Sylar since he didn't really like fashion . . . or people who were trying to pull on some moves on him.

This was the largest place in the mall for dresses and tuxedos, and the only place we were dropping by before going home.

"Ah! My Vasanti!" Vivi called in her Scottish accent, hugging me as I walked in awkwardly with her line of skinny jeans and a halter top, my hair in a ponytail, a clip of hers surrounding my hair tie. "You look _fabulous_ in _my_ clothes!"

"Thanks . . .?" I whispered.

"What brings you here?" She smiled at everyone behind me, a question in her eyes as she looked at the loner.

_Me_.

"We're going to . . . a . . . umm . . . ball-sort-party," I said, my hand waving around. "It's on Saturday."

"Ah, the president's ball," she nodded. "No need to keep secret, Icicle."

She circled around me and stared at all the girls and guys behind me for a few minutes, wringing her measuring tape around her fingers.

"Well then," Vivi answered, smirking at Sylar as she circled his body. "I'll work on you all, one by one. It'll take a few hours but I will be able to get you on your way before the mall closes."

I stifled a laugh. Vivi _never_ kept you longer than a few hours if it was a large group. If you described it, she had it. If you didn't know what you wanted, she'd know _exactly_ what you needed. Her make-up to go along was incredibly cheap, but _amazing_ because it worked _exactly_ like the really expensive make-up; her accessories were the type that you'd only see in magazines.

"I'll help the gentlemen first, since they'll need a more _advanced_ suit to wear," Vivi muttered. "Vasanti, I'll need your help with the ladies."

I smiled as I finally belonged in a group, pulling out dresses that fit Liz's description as Vivi helped Liam, slipping on and off different dresses for her, lasting pretty long.

"Vasanti, you're not really _into_ this aren't you?" Liz asked as I fixed a gown on for her, straightening the ruffles on her dress.

"I like it," I lied. "I used to work here in the summer and there'd be _hundreds_ of people in here at a time."

Liz nodded and her eyes darted to a small stack of dresses, her eyes widening as she walked away from me. She searched through the clothes and smiled as she stopped at a dress, seeming to be lost in her own world, pulling it out and smiling.

"This is the one," she gasped, her fingers running down the dress, the satin purple gleaming in the light.

I nodded, stepping up to her and leading her into the dressing room as I looked for a pair of heels to go with it. I rummaged through the racks on the wall behind the store; the dark red boxes with a signature on it were amazing to look at as I ran my fingers through pumps, heels, flats, tennis shoes, and more.

When Liz stepped out of the dressing room, I nearly dropped the box I was holding because I couldn't recognize her. Her blonde hair fell on her shoulders and the satin pressed against her skinny body, hugging her hips and the straps hanging diagonally on her shoulders.

"Those heels would go amazing with this," Liz squealed.

She ran over to me, and I handed her the box I had dropped, walking around with the back of her dress draping beautifully on the ground, the purple tinted heels hovering off the ground.

"Ah, Vasanti," Vivi called, Liam trailing behind her. "They look like a match!"

Liam smiled at me as he passed, his hand holding hers as he stood next to her for a 'compare and contrast' moment. Liam was in a dark gray suit, fitting perfectly with Liz's dress, his silver tie tucked under his fest. I smiled at them and continued throwing the heels back into place on the shelf.

"The heels are _hot_," Liz complimented. "We're ready to _rock_ this ball."

***

I sighed as Sarah spun around in a dress near Dal, his head shaking in disapproval. He really _did_ know his fashion in _this_ world.

"I think he's right, Sarah," Vivi muttered. "It exposes too much."

"Try this one," I offered, holding up the dress that I'd been wanting her to try on for a while. "I think it'll make a good fit."

Sarah finally stepped out in a silver satin dress with a slit on her back right leg, her heels sparkling as she took a step, her head tilting to the side, searching for Dal's approval or disapproval.

He was _speechless_.

Dal stared at her in awe, a smile spreading on his face as she stood next to him, holding his hand silently. Dal was in a black suit with a black tie, two buttons to tie his suit together, his tie tucked under the suit. They were a_ great_ contrast to each other; _breathtaking_ to be exact. Too cute.

Somehow, Ashley managed to find her dress while waiting for Liz and Sarah to finish, and when she opened the door, stepping out of the dressing room, I nearly fell over in shock. She was in a strapless gown, a sparkling red-velvet dress, falling to the floor after flaring out from her waist. Her beautiful shade of sparkling, red pumps hovered above the ground with a ring coiled around the front as a pattern.

Sylar appeared behind her in a quick fashion, raking his eyes up and down her dress, _loving_ how she looked. I could see the lust in his eyes as he squeezed her hand, his eyes still lost in the shape of her body as she smiled at me, her smile lighting up the store.

I smirked at Sylar as he wrapped his hands around Ashley's waist, his head setting on her shoulder. He was in a black mirage suit with one button to clasp together his suit with a white undershirt and a red tie, his black pants looking sharp with everything else he had. Everyone looked so stunning standing next to each other, giggling and smiling; ready to leave. They could all pull it off, even in an informal dress, but I had to do something big and catchy to even _start_ to measure up to the others.

All of the couples stood next to each other in their dresses, smiling as Vivi showed the girls—and yes—the boys how to do their make up and put their accessories on, the hair styles that would match the different themes of their dresses and suits.

"Now, you all relax here," Vivi pointed to the cushioned seats as she guided me to the racks and mannequins. "Vasanti, my beautiful child. Which dress pleases you?"

"I don't know . . ."

"Maybe this one . . . or . . ."

She probably took the longest on me because I was so plain even though she didn't admit it; all the dresses didn't going along with my plain face. Vivi tried her hardest, throwing me in a dress, but I refused; it looked too much like Sarah's dress. Every dress she threw on me, I felt as if I had seen it before—but of course—I'd seen _every_ fashion in the world.

"Vasanti," Vivi growled, not frustrated yet. "Do we need to go back to the 1800's?"

A frightening picture ran through my mind.

_Powdered wigs. _

_Bonnets. _

_Large hats. _

I shivered at the thought, shaking my head violently.

"Vivi," I sighed. "I don't think I need to find a dress _at all_. I'm so . . . plain. We'll _never_ find a dress . . ."

I turned around as I was saying this, but was cut off as a single dress on a stand caught my eye, seeming to sparkle as the glitter gleamed off the spotlights on the mannequin, glowing.

"Vivi . . ." I whispered in a daze. "_This one_."

She pulled it off the model, handing it to me as she stared at my eyes gleaming from the amazing feel to the pricey fabric.

***

I stepped out of the dressing room, smirking in uncertainty as the heels seemed to high and my dress too exposing. The dress was a light color of blue, the one strap slung diagonally on my shoulder, the bodice slim against my chest, pushing them out a bit more and from the hips and flared down to the ground behind me.

A slit on my right leg ran up to my thigh and as I took a step, it exposed my lower thigh, my light color of legs exposed beautifully. My silver-blue high heels were 3 inches high, the straps circling around me feet, crossing each line creatively.

I felt beautiful for once in my life. Everyone who'd found their dresses or suits already, stared at me like I was from another planet as I twirled around, my hair brushing against my exposed and bare back.

"Vasanti," Vivi cried "simply . . . stunning. Elegant. _Sexy_."

Sylar stepped away from his arms around Ashley, his lips pressed in a thin line.

"Absolutely _not_!" Sylar yelled out, making everybody jump.

Everyone closed in on me, protectively standing in front of me, not including Sylar and Ashley. I gulped as everyone was ready to use their powers against Sylar—Liam especially. He didn't know how powerful Sylar was when he was mad. Sylar stiffened at the thought of my friends protecting me and going against him.

"Why not, Sylar?" I whispered, breaking through between Liz and Sarah. "Are you going to start cutting of my _fashion_ too?"

Sylar stared at me; his eyes penetrating through my soul, making me feel vulnerable and weak as his eyes dilated. His stare was deep, searching my soul for something useful to use against me. As he hit the jackpot, he started to say the words, smirking in a way at me that made me hate him even more as my brother.

"Think about—"

"Sylar, please," Ashley muttered, circling around him, caressing his arm. "She looks stunning, and she needs to look good for the president . . . or _anybody else_ she'll be meeting on Saturday night."

Ashley nodded to the entrance to _Vivi's _and all our heads snapped up. I almost groaned and rushed off into the dressing room to hide forever as Senator Petrelli walked in, Peter and Rachel behind him.

But what I groaned about was Senator Petrelli, not Rachel and Peter. I didn't want anybody to see me in my dress . . . yet.

Peter and Rachel held hands, swinging back and forth, talking to one of the employees and laughing. Sylar stiffened beside Ashley as Rachel waved to me and I waved back.

_Please no, not now_, I thought to myself. _I'm too plain to be in public._

I blushed silently as Ashley's eyes grazed down to me, her eyebrows raising.

"Sylar, maybe we should invite them for dinner down in the food court," Ashley whispered, looking into his eyes.

A fire of aggravation raged on with those two's eyes for a whole two minutes, exchanging opinions and arguments.

"_Fine_," Sylar finally said. "But _I'm_ not sitting by them."

"Deal_._"

***

"So Rachel, what's the big occasion?" I asked, trying to stay inconspicuous.

We sat at a large table, Peter and Rachel across from me as Senator Petrelli, Liz, Sarah, Dal, and Liam were spread around the circular table, sipping drinks and smoothies after we'd had our dinner. Sylar stared at the _Solitudes_ in disgust in the table behind us; his eyes carefully cautious for danger.

"A ball of some sort," Rachel said, concealing the already-known-secret.

"Intriguing," Liam answered.

I smiled at Rachel as she pushed through my mind and drawing me into her thoughts.

_You're going too?_

_Yeah, but don't tell anyone . . . unless . . . Peter's listening also?_

Peter's eyes met mine.

_Yeah, he is. But he's not talking, Pete's into their 'conversation'._

My eyes darted to Liz and Liam, staring at each other and smiling as if they were locked on each other forever.

_Well then, Peter! No gossiping for _you_! _

Peter chuckled and Rachel snapped me out of her mind.

"How about you, Vasanti?" Nathan's voice rung immediately after I was snapped back into reality. "Your occasion?"

"Party at our mansion on Saturday," I lied. "I'm hosting."

I threw up my hands and swung my hips, trying to convince him. Nobody needed to know a little girl was going to be president one day . . . yet.

"Do you plan on coming?" Liz whispered to him, a taunt in her voice. "She doesn't have a date."

I kicked Liz in the knee, making her flinch and glare at me.

"Of-of _course_ I do!" I hissed. "I just . . . don't know who it is . . . yet."

"I'd love to be of assistance," Senator Petrelli said, nodding.

I smiled, wishing that I _would_ have a date. But . . . _seriously_ . . . did he . . . just say . . . yes? My heart leapt.

"I'm sure that Vasanti would _love_ that," Rachel said, eyeing me as Peter laughed.

"We'd better be off," Sylar growled icily, tapping on the table and passing us.

I scowled at him, standing up and securing the strap around my shoulder and grabbing my drink. Everyone on the table said their goodbyes, nodding to each other as they mingled for a last time. Senator Petrelli came up to me.

"Thanks for having dinner with us," I thanked, smiling at him, feeling stupid. "It's not everyday that you eat with the Senator."

"Thank you for having us," he said, taking my hand. "Glad to be of assistance."

I smiled at his touch, biting my lip and holding back my feelings that could be pouring out at this second out of hysteria.

_Get a _grip_ Vasanti_.

He started to lean down to press his lips to my hand, but Sylar stepped between us, cutting him off.

"Get your filthy _Solitude_ hands _off of her_," he growled, stepping towards Senator Petrelli. "Touch her again, and you'll never see the light of day."

I sighed, blushing in embarrassment as I turned around with my bag.

"I'm sorry, Senator Petrelli," I closed my eyes. "Thank you for being of my assistance."

I curtsied an old fashioned way, and he bowed, making every one around me giggle.

"Silence!" Sylar cried, stepping up to the senator, grabbing him by the collar. "Listen, _Solitude_. Don't you _ever _touch Vasanti _ever again_."

"Sylar, leave him alone," I muttered. "I've got to go before it starts to get too _windy_."

I glared at Liz, her terror stricken face making the wind slap against the mall windows.

"Nate, we'd better be leaving," Peter mumbled, hi hand resting on Senator Petrelli's shoulder as he shared Nathan's power.

They stepped outside, bags in hand, and ran into the alley, flying up into the sky with a puff of smoke in the shape of a circle behind them as they lifted off the ground.

"Sylar," I growled. "_That_ was uncalled for."

~End of Chapter Three~

_***PLEASE REVIEW!***_


	4. This Night

~Our Notion~

*This Night*

I tried to straighten my clothes as Samuels dropped me off at the gates, my t-shirt clinging to me with the intense heat along with my skinny jeans and flats, my hair straightened and falling over my shoulders. The sun shone on the Statue of Liberty, making it glint as I moved closer to the gates, hoping that I wouldn't be tranquilized.

The red band around my wrist with my name and the president's stamp, felt as if it were ripping through my skin. I stepped up to the gate, smiling as the door opened, a group of guards stepping up with black suits, sunglasses and earpieces.

I could see the small cameras in the sides of the building, some of them barely visible. The guards walked down the isle, guns in their belts if needed.

"Name?" One of them boomed, stomping up to the gate.

"Vasanti Gray," I said, my wrist flying up.

He inspected it carefully, looking at a sheet of paper in his hands and flew the gate door open, rushing me in.

"Miss Gray, we just have to . . ."

A metal detector stood in front of us and I sighed.

"Yeah, whatever," I whispered, throwing my only metal thing in the box. "Can I have my cell back when I'm in the _House_?"

They paused for a second, their fingers pressed to their earpieces as they tried to listen to the talk on the other line.

"Yes, Miss Gray, you may," the guard muttered, escorting me in after patting me down.

I smiled, grabbing my BlackBerry and stepping in front of the door to the White House.

"Wait here," someone behind me whispered. "Mr. President will be out soon."

Not a minute after he said that, the president stepped out of the White House, 2o guards seeming to surround him.

"Hello, Miss Gray. I'm glad you could make it," he said in his thick Russian accent. "It's nice to finally meet you."

He extended his hand for me to shake, but I couldn't grab his hand through the thick barrier of humans. I stopped trying after a few minutes of the guards moving around.

"Umm . . ." I muttered.

"Maybe we should meet inside the White House."

"We should," I agreed.

I glided through the doors as the other stayed behind, muttering into their speakers, contacting with all the others. The group around Mr. President finally disappeared, leaving only one, who stood by him at all times.

He had dark blonde hair that blew across his face, his hazel eyes protective and on duty as I smiled at him.

"Nice to finally meet you, Mr. President," I extended my hand, nodding as he shook it firmly.

He was in a dark blue suit, his red tie with a diagonal pattern tucked under his jacket and his short, thick hair slicked back, his dark brown eyes sloshing around like a liquid.

"Please, call me Arigha," he walked along, hands behind his back.

"Call me Vasanti, then," I said, my flats clacking against the floor.

"Agreed," he smirked. "Let's start the tour."

Trying to pay attention during a tour is nearly _impossible_, even for a Political nerd like me. Being interested was _so_ hard for me as he explained the history stored in the new and improved White House, now located in the ruins where New York used to be. He talked about how predictable the bombing of Washington D.C. was, and how we took all the important documents and artifacts out before they did it.

I was surprised at _one_ thing though. He had decided to keep the American flag for our Northern Colonies, and he was no different than any other president we'd had in the past, nonetheless better.

"What do you think President Obama's main point was when he won?" Arigha asked, staring at Obama's badge that had his face engraved on it.

"I think that that he wanted to show us that no matter how different our leaders are, we still have leaders that can still change the world, not _just_ him," I answered. "From what I know, he created a domino effect and has created _many_ great leaders; even with some wars lost."

I beamed at him, moving on as he explained how the new-and-improved Italian marble was the strongest thing they could find for the new design of the White House (which still looked like the old one). My hand brushed against the wall, the marble soothing as I walked by, bored to death.

He told me the history of his nation and how he immigrated here when he was raised by a Russian who he promised to that he'd be a strong leader someday.

"Mr. President," the bodyguard beside me whispered, interrupting the tour. "Your meeting has been moved to today . . . it's in a few hours."

"Oh my," Arigha stopped to think for a second. "I'll be in my office in a few minutes."

We walked past a few people, their suits ironed and clipboards clung to their sides, nodding to Arigha as they passed by.

"Secretary of Treasury, Michelle Gulbert," Arigha whispered, pointing to a lady.

She nodded to me, shaking me by the hand, her skirt a perfect color of gray and silver, her blonde hair in curls and her blue eyes wide and alert. Next to her was a man, his dark-gold hair flying across his face, the dark brown eyes tired, and worked up.

"Secretary of State, Matthew Sivertson," he smiled as I shook his hand. "A pleasure to finally meet you."

"Likewise, Mr. Sylverstein," I tried to smile as his grip tightened.

"I'm sorry, Miss Gray," Arigha whispered. "I'll have to hand you over to someone who will give you a tour. Its nice how this worked out though; you two will be working closely together in the future." He leaned over to me, his hand covering his mouth. "He's my candidate for president."

"Who's that?" I asked, rushing behind him, trying to keep up with his large strides.

We turned a sharp corner, and down the hall, straight up ahead, was a door. Arigha whooshed through the door and I stepped in behind him, my mind gasping, but my body refusing.

"Senator Nathan Petrelli of the Northern Colonies," Arigha introduced.

Senator Petrelli looked up from his desk, smiling as he saw the president, stiffening and nodding as he looked at me, reminding him of his experience with my brother.

"I hope you don't mind if he's a supporter of _Solitudes_, and I know that Sylar—"

"We've met before," I gritted my teeth. "Under some . . . unusual circumstances."

"Senator Petrelli, will you please show Ms. Gray to the gardens?" Arigha asked politely. "It's the only place she hasn't been to yet. It's almost time for her to leave after a long tour."

"Yes, I will escort her," Senator Petrelli smiled at Arigha and stood up in his black suit, red tie, and his hair combed to the side professionally.

"The guards will be out there, so don't worry," Arigha muttered, then came up to my ear. "_Vote Petrelli_!"

"Thank you, Mr. President," Senator Petrelli nodded.

"Anything for you, Nathan."

The door closed behind him, leaving us in an awkward state.

"So then, let's make this snappy," Senator Petrelli grumbled. "I've got to prepare for Mr. President's invitee for a meeting and a tour of the White House."

He stepped out of the door and closed it, taking large steps in front of me, his hands crossed behind his back; I nearly had to run to catch up with him.

_What was _with_ people walking so fast_?

"But . . ." I stuttered.

"Not now," he muttered.

"But . . ." I was about to scream, but instead, tapped on his shoulder.

"Excuse me, I'd like you to step away," he warned. "My tour for Mr. President's invitee is coming soon, and I've got to look my best for _him_, we'll be working together in the future, and I _don't_ want to make a bad impression."

"_Excuse me_!" I yelled out, stepping in front of him. "_I'm_ the one on the tour! _I'm_ the one who will have to work with _you_ in the future! _I'm_ the one who you've already made a bad impression on!"

He was caught by surprise and jumped back immediately, eyebrows raised.

"You mean . . ."

"He never said _anything_ about working with _you_," I muttered, stomping out the doors of the gates, into the garden.

"What does he see in _you_?" he asked, and immediately went quiet as I glared at him. "I'm sorry . . . I was expecting someone who'd had more . . . power or look . . ."

". . . More professional?" I answered for him, scoffing and crossing my arms. "I'm more professional than you _think_."

"I'm sincerely . . . sorry . . ." he uttered, catching up to me as we stepped into the gardens.

"No need . . ." I said, in a daze.

The garden was so huge that it could have consumed the White House with the vines and flowers. It was early spring and the flowers were only starting to bloom, but was still beautiful as I stepped down the trail made of rocks, down and up the different sections and floors.

There was an unusual cross-breed of blue and green flowers, the bush of abundance as I passed by, the thorns seeming to stick out at the moving objects near them.

"May I touch them?" I asked.

"No, it's not permitted," Senator Petrelli muttered.

"Oh, okay," I smiled dazzlingly at the flowers.

The plants wriggled in the wind, their smiles making the sun leap with joy.

"Why didn't you tell me you were _Senator Petrelli_?" I demanded an answer, my fingers frolicking with ice on the rims. "I was about to _kiss_ you, and you were going to _let me_?"

"I don't have an answer for you," he mumbled, walking beside me as I stared at the plants and flowers. "It was to fast for me to think."

His pale, ivory skin gleamed in the sunlight, his dark brown hair brushed to the side elegantly. His kind-of muscular outline stood out as he crossed his arms across his chest, looking at me awkwardly as I stared at a Venus fly trap.

"You nearly got murdered by my brother—two times," I whispered. "You should be grateful he let you leave—with your power—and unscathed."

"Should I be scared of him—or his little sister?" he chuckled, the first sign that he had life since I got here.

I glared at him and rolled my eyes as I stepped down a flight of stairs, nearly tripping as I stared into his eyes.

"How are you going to tell your nation . . . who you are?" I gasped. "How long do you think you can contain your secret?"

"It's a personal problem, nobody needs to know about it . . . including the people I support," he pointed to the White House, then spread his arms, meaning the whole world. "They wouldn't understand. It wouldn't be good for my platform if it came out. We would be discriminated."

"Most of what we are is what people _want_ us to be," I grumbled. "You're the one person out of _many _that need to change _that_. And it's not a _we_, it's a _you_. I don't belong in any groups; I wouldn't be able to choose a side."

"Well then, you don't belong in your brother's clan either?" he taunted.

"Hey!" I cried out, stopping him in his tracks, grabbing his arm. "I don't choose sides. Only when necessary."

A group of bodyguards rushed by, ready to take me away, but I didn't loosen my grip on his arm.

"But _you're_ the one who chooses if you want to be an _icicle_ or not," I warned, letting a puff of cold mist rush out of my lips, rushing towards a group of vines, leaving Senator Petrelli to run after me.

"Wait, Vasanti," he called behind me. "I'm sorry."

"Senator Petrelli," I whispered, stopping and closing my eyes. "Don't apologize to me about my brother."

"I wasn't . . ."

"_Stop_," I muttered, turning around to face him. "Just go on with the tour. Are there any other places here?"

Senator Petrelli stepped in front of me to lead the way, gesturing for me to follow as he took slow, gradual steps after I almost tripped.

"There's a wishing fountain in the middle of the flower garden," he nodded to the left.

We walked past a growing bush of lilacs and I smiled, taking in the moment to smell them.

"Lilacs," I giggled playfully, the purple blooms seeming to giggle with me.

"Just a little girl," Senator Petrelli whispered to himself, beckoning me to hurry along.

After a million twists and turns around the sculptures and grass statues, he finally halted; pointing to an arch decorated with flowers, and through the arch was a large fountain, sprouting water from the edges.

"Here it is," he finally said. "The wishing fountain."

I looked up from a few Zinnias and gasped at the massive fountain. The fountain had a dragon coiling around the edges, twisting into the middle of the fountain, extending its head to the edge of the fountain in a protective stance, about to attack.

"How do you make a wish?" I asked, my hand dipping into the aqua-blue water as I circled around it, the scales gleaming.

"Hold onto the dragon's hands, close your eyes, and make a wish," he explained.

"May I?"

He nodded to me.

I stepped up to the dragon's face, grabbing his small, fragile hands and stared into the dragon's diamond eyes before closing my own eyes. Memories flooded through my very own eyes; but not _my_ memories.

_My mother's_.

***

"Make a wish, Lillian," Alicia (my grandmother) whispered, patting her 17-year-old child's back as she flipped a coin.

"Mother, what should my wish be?" Lillian asked, her gold hair and eyes gleaming with excitement of a five-year-old.

"Anything you want, my child," Alicia smiled at her, pushing her along to the pond where the statue of an angel sat, thinking.

"Ms. Angel, what should my wish be about?" she asked the angel politely, tilting her head.

"Anything you want, Daughter of Eve," the angel whispered, moving from its position and smiling at her with a bronze smile. "What did you want to be, but never got the change?"

Lillian's hands dipped in the water and she smiled as her train of thought slipped into her childhood years.

"I wish . . ." she said to the angel. "I could be a princess for one night."

"Miss Lillian, your wish shall be granted," the angel smiled at her and went back to its sitting position of pouring water.

That night, Lillian got to be a princess.

She was at a dance when someone swooped her off her feet and danced with her, just like in a fairy tale. She met an important person to her that night, and never let go of that person until the day she died.

_She met my father. _

_***_

I opened my eyes and looked into the eyes of the stone dragon again, smiling at it. My mother would have hat the power to talk to the dragon, asking him multiple questions about what she should wish for.

_I wish I could be a princess for one night_

I thought it over and over in my head, opening my eyes after a few minutes of repeating it; and I could _swear_ I saw a hint of my mother's gold eyes in the dragon's eyes.

"I'm finished," I smiled as I looked up to Senator Petrelli, who was patiently waiting for me.

I pecked the dragon on the snout, my lip gloss seeming to moisten after the kiss. Standing by Senator Petrelli, I felt small as he was a few inches taller than me, looking down on me as I smiled sheepishly at him.

As we walked into the White House, the guards came in behind us, closing the gates and speaking in low voices.

"Miss . . . Gray, is it?" Senator Petrelli asked, looking at me as we stepped down the hall.

"Yes," I answered.

"Cell?" he held out his hand, waiting.

"Umm . . . here . . ." I handed my BlackBerry to him, turning red.

He typed something in, snapping the keyboard closed, giving it back to me.

"If we're going to qualify to be great partners, you're going to need my cell phone number," he nodded to me.

My mind wandered to different dimensions, and I turned a bright color as my lips pursed. I shifted uncomfortably.

"I meant—political partners," he said, clearly embarrassed, but didn't show it. "Call me when you want me to _fly_ by."

"Miss Gray!" a guard—specifically the president's—called for me. "Over here!"

"Jackson," Senator Petrelli chuckled, his fist trying to contain his laugh as he coughed into it.

"I'd better be off then," I whispered, nodding to him. "Thank you for showing me the gardens, Senator Petrelli."

"Please, call me Nathan," he corrected, nodding to me. "You're a part of us—I mean—this organization now."

"Yes, of course," I smiled at him, but he didn't smile back. "I'll see you at the ball tonight."

He said adieu to me, touching his forehead with two fingers and waving it off as I stepped away, into the responsibility of Jackson, as he escorted me out. He handed me to another man, just a bit younger than Jackson and was as ripped as him, but stood up like he was in the military.

His long, caramel brown hair was tied into a ponytail, his nearly red eyes, staring . . . unsure about . . . me?

"Miss Gray, this is Dimitri Waysworth," Jackson introduced. "He's one of our oldest guards, so . . . _watch out_."

I chuckled and nodded, not understanding what he was directing to. Smiling, I shook Dimitri's hand, feeling stupid as Jackson stared at me.

"_This_ is her?" Dimitri called in a gruff and mean voice. "The person who's going to meet the president?"

"Excuse me?" I cried, my head tilting as I studied him.

"Dimitri will be your bodyguard," Jackson finally said. "She is _your_ responsibility for tonight. _All night._"

Reality slapped me in the face, and reality made _sure_ that it was hard. I gaped at Dimitri, glaring.

"You're _kidding_ . . . right?" I scoffed, turning around and laughing.

"I'm sorry, Ms. Gray," Dimitri muttered, escorting me out of the gates. "I'm afraid that he's _not_ kidding. You are not to go out of my sight tonight."

"This is _insanity_," I grumbled as we climbed into the limo, another limo following behind us. "I. Don't. Need. _Protection_."

Dimitri stared at me the whole way there.

It got _so_ irritating by the time we reached the first stoplight that I thought his eyes were looking right through me like a ghost's stare.

"Did you get my dress?" I asked as everyone climbed into the limo, Dimitri sitting next to me.

"Yeah, Sylar has it," Liz muttered, holding onto Liam as her other hand clutched a bag. "Are we changing at the White House?"

"Yes, ma'am," Dimitri answered. "Each couple will be assisted with a hairdresser."

_Great_. I was the odd one out . . . again. _Thanks Dimitri_! How many times would I be singled out today?

Sylar handed me my bag as he stepped in with Ashley, sitting across from me as Sarah and Dal sat diagonal from me, sitting with Liam and Liz.

"Who's this, Vasanti?" Sylar questioned, eyebrows rising.

"Did you hook up at the White House?" Sarah giggled.

Dimitri and I stiffened. I bit my lip, gnawing at the flesh softly.

"No," I snapped. "Dimitri's my 'bodyguard' for tonight."

I put quotation marks in the air, rolling my eyes at Dimitri's hard face.

"Ms. Gray, to get there on time, shall we intercept traffic?" Dimitri asked, pressing his finger to his earpiece.

"Yes," I smiled. "We _shall_."

The limo driver smiled at me and tapped on the keyboard in front of him as all the green lights suddenly turned on, racing away.

"Hold on tight," Dimitri whispered, smiling as we zoomed off, arriving at the White House in a matter of minutes.

By the time we got to the White House, the sun had set; only a faint glow prevailed in the west.

"Vasanti1" Vivi said, smiling as I stepped out of the limo. "I'm your hairdresser! What a coincidence!"

I was escorted away with Vivi and Dimitri as the others were rushed upstairs into their rooms with their couples and hairdressers.

Sighing, I looked at the three doors down from me, their giggling and laughing stabbed me painfully as I tried to swallow it down. I stepped through my door, the small room with a chair in the middle and mirrors surrounding the entire room glowing like an angel's den.

"Now, Mr. Waysworth . . . I'll need you to step out for a moment while we are getting prepared," Vivi commanded.

"No, I cannot leave Ms. Gray's side tonight," he protested.

I gave him a look, clearly surprised.

_Pervert_.

"Dimitri," I growled. "I _know_ I have a tempting body, but you can leave _now _and check it out _later_."

"Ms. Gray—"

"That's an _order_," I narrowed my eyes to show my warning.

"Yes ma'am," he grumbled. "I'll be waiting _outside_."

He stepped out, obeying and I sighed.

"The first taste of freedom after _decades_," I slunk into the chair and smiled.

"Vasanti, we're behind, _let's get going_," Vivi scolded, spinning me around in the chair to make me sit up. "I've got only two hours to get you to look like a princess."

I looked up at Vivi, her choice of words were . . . awkward, but I smiled, closing my eyes.

"Ready?" Vivi spread out loads of make-up in front of me.

"When you are," I chuckled.

Her hands circled around my face, brushing away the hair from my face and tying it into a ponytail. Vivi's hands brushed against my face, over and over as she applied foundation, the expensive make-up starting to settle in, smoother than my original skin, my eyes feeling stunning.

As she moved onto my hair, the twirling of my hair tightening on the back of my head as she set a pin the middle and a light layer of hairspray for volume.

When she pulled out the dress, it was as if I'd never seen it before; it was foreign to me.

When I finally got to look in the mirror, I shifted my head in confusion, my eyebrows rising as I tried to soak everything in.

Was this _really_ how I looked?

The eyes were the only thing that stood out to me, the dark eyeliner and mascara lining the eyes with more of a golden shine. The dress shimmered, but only so much that you could see it from 10 feet away, my light skin shining.

My lips shone a light pink color with some gloss and my hair was in a side bun, my bangs brushed across my forehead and diamond clips slipped into the bun, a light blue band wrapped around it once.

Maybe Sylar _was_ right; the dress was too exposing, my heels too high.

"Vivi?" I whispered. "Is the dress okay?"

I stared at my bare back, sighing.

"Vasanti, it's perfect," She laughed. "Now, come on and _get going_."  
As she opened the door a peek, the chandelier hanging from the third floor shone through the entire ballroom below, the stairs that we were to step down of were spiraling like a snake around a column.

Everyone was starting to step out of their rooms, their hands looped with each other's arms.

Liz's hair was straightened, falling onto her shoulders as he dress grazed on the red and gold carpet, her ears sparkling every time she took a step. Liam stood beside her, whispering and his suit looked sharp, his hair gelled to the side with his amazing smile. He was a _really_ good actor. Not many people could pass as _Villias_ or Neutrals in front of my brother for _this_ long.

Sarah and Dal silently stood next to each other, Sarah's hands brushed across his neck as she smoothed his tie, her hair down and curled at the ends so they bounced onto her shoulders. Dal had his usual style of hair, brushed to the side; his dark eyes, piercing through the walls.

And lastly, Ashley.

I _had_ to admit; standing by Sylar, Ashley was beautiful. She seemed to glow as the light bounced off of her dress's sparkles,. Shimmering everywhere as her hair was in a bun with a crown set carefully to surround her bun

Around Ashley's neck was a family heirloom, a ruby necklace with a platinum design spinning around the gemstone elegantly, her red pumps reflecting off of the ruby.

Sylar stood beside her, his stiff, position meaning he was on guard, ready for any danger that came his way as he straightened his suit and brushed his hand across his messy hair.

"Vasanti!" Vivi cried, pushing me out of the door. "Out!"

I stepped out of the door and nodded to Dimitri, looking over the edge of the railing as the chatter of people made my stomach flutter.

"An escort, Ms. Gray?" Dimitri asked, standing behind me.

I looked behind me at his hard face, smiling as I could feel the making of a new friendship.

"Please," I said. "I'd topple over if I don't."

I looped my arm around his, ready to be called down. His arm was warm, the heat transferring to my cold body as all the couples smiled, stepping down the stairs, and not noticing my presence.

"Mr. Sylar Gray and Ms. Ashley Berkof," the announcer called as Sylar and Ashley stepped in front of the stairs, disappearing as they spiraled around the ballroom.

Everyone else was gone. I was the only one left on the staircase. I stopped at the top of the stairs, butterflies flying in my stomach, gripping on tighter to Dimitri.

"It's your time to _shine_," Dimitri smiled, patting me on the arm for good luck as he pulled me down the stairs.

"Ms. Vasanti Gray!" the voice echoed off throughout the entire ballroom and I forced myself—setting aside the fear—to step down the stairs, me feet taking me down involuntarily.

I now found out that they had decorated the staircase with millions of flowers. There were flowers wrapped around the railings of the staircase, sparkling with glitter as I passed by, the spotlight shining on my face.

Under my high heels and exposed leg, there were flower petals spread evenly on the stairs, my dress draping on the ground behind me, the rush of flowers tumbling to my feet.

Beyond that, I couldn't see a thing except the flashes of cameras and red buttons recording this moment, but I could feel _everyone's_ stares on me and I smiled, trying to make a good impression.

Subtracting the _fear_ and _anxiety_, I felt . . . seductive . . . sexy.

Ashley, Liz, and Sarah told me that feeling sexy was a great feeling, but I didn't think it would be _this_ great. I felt cautious . . . but dangerous in these heels.

_With great power comes great responsibility. _

Of course, that didn't apply to _now_ . . . or _me_ in anyway. But I still felt like I was a danger to the public at this moment; like I could rip out someone's throat.

Before I knew it, it was over, the spotlight disappearing and the ballroom's torches lighting up the entire room as I stepped onto the flat ground.

The room was _colossal_, and nothing could compare to it. _Nothing_ at all. A chandelier hung from the ceiling, lighting up the middle of the ballroom, the torch-like lights hung around the room, a few doors open—leading outside—to get air flowing. The room was nearly gold as all the decorations made it look ancient with the swirling designs, but beautiful.

I looked up to see a million stares looking my way, as if they were hypnotized. I sighed and unhooked my hand from Dimitri's, looking for someone to go to—certainly, I was _not_ going to have an interview.

My eyes caught the President's, nodding for me to come over and speak to some people.

"Ah, Mr. President," I smiled at all the people around him.

The uneasiness settled in as Dimitri followed behind me and all the people Arigha was talking to, looked over to me as I introduced myself.

"Miss Gray," Reivaja Marahid smiled, nodding to me.

"Mrs. Marahid," I beamed back. "It's a pleasure to meet you in person."

"Likewise."

Reivaja had long brown, silky hair that she had tied into a braid along her hips. Her yellow flared dress hugged her hips and beautiful figure as her dark skin made a good contrast with it. Her eyes were drawn with a kohl eyeliner, light and beautiful. I felt so plain as I posed for a picture with her.

My hand was kissed many times by the people we—if you count Dimitri—were introduced to, my face turning red every time they did so; but luckily, most of them were neutrals. My face went hard when I met a neutral, whom I immediately knew, was a _Solitude_ supporter.

His stare scared me half to death, probably because of his wild, jungle-man type look, following my eyes as Mr. President had me step up to the platform with him, the members of the White House lined behind us as Dimitri stood behind me.

"I recently sent out a letter to invite the person to come to the White House for a tour, as you all know," Arigha started, his voice booming throughout the filled ballroom. "But what you don't know, is that I _consciously _chose this person. I believe that this person will _change the world_, starting with our nation. But not _alone_. Certainly _not_. Senator Nathan Petrelli will now work with . . . Miss Vasanti Gray!"

The crowd broke into applaud, the clapping echoing off the walls and jumping back to hit me. I nervously stepped up to the microphone, Dimitri _still_ standing behind me.

I rambled through my head, trying to find something that would work. I wasn't prepared to have a speech; I needed at _least_ a day's notice. I decided that I'd just wing it from now on.

"Thank you, Mr. President," I nodded to the crowd and smiled as the cameras flashed in my face. "I would just like for everyone to know, that I would have _never_ thought of this idea if my brother—" I gestured to Sylar in the crowd "—never pushed me so far. With everything that I've accomplished, I can't say I can refuse to have a future involved with politics. I'd like to thank you all and hope you have a _wonderful_ night."

The clapping broke out again, and Nathan stood next to me with the president on my other side as they smiled at the cameras dazzlingly. They'd had so much practice and I was the one who looked like I was bored to death.

A soft melody played, and I noticed it immediately. It was a tune from a while ago, and was _really_ quite old.

_Flightless Bird, American Mouth_—by Iron and Wine.

I smiled at the president for a last time before walking off the platform as Dimitri trailed behind me, his eyes fixed—finally, not on me—but his . . . girlfriend? She was on the outer circle of the crowd, her black, layered hair fell onto her shoulders and her dark brown eyes seemed to match his eyes. She was in a black v-neck dress that flared, her silver heels visible in the light as she smiled at him.

"You can leave if you'd like," I said, smiling at him. "I'll be fine."

"Miss Gray, I cannot. My duty is to—"

"Dimitri, if you lose your job, I'll probably just hire you again," I muttered. "You've had too little nights where you just _hang out_. Just this _one_ night."

"Duty comes before—"

"Dimitri, get the hell away from me," I growled under my breath. "I'm not _that_ reckless, I'll be _fine_."

He nodded to me, despite my foul language, patting my arm in thanks and turning around.

"You have a safe and wonderful night," he whispered, then disappearing as a circle of dance started, pushing me to the side.

"Oh, Senator Petrelli," I said, backing away as his hand pressed against my back. "Nathan."

"Vasanti," he whispered. "Did Dimitri ditch you? It's not like him."

"I _ordered_ him to leave his duty home tonight," I whispered.

The song ended, the speakers still shaking from around the entire ballroom as a new song started; one I knew too well that I couldn't just stand here while it played.

_Broken_—by Seether.

My hands flew up involuntarily and I internally kicked myself as I took Nathan to the dance floor, my hand draping around his neck as we swayed side to side to the heartbreaking song, his hands around my waist a spark transmitting through our bodies.

I could see what he was wearing clearly, his pale-ivory skin blending well. His silver suit draped to the middle of his thigh with pockets, the ends of his sleeves with a few buttons. The suit had two buttons to clasp the suit together, the collar of his jacket was smooth, and his black, buttoned undershirt's collar was pulled up amazingly.

What I noticed was different about him was that he didn't have a tie on, his hair was spiked up in a messy way that exposed a part of his forehead, his hairs flying away, but he still looked . . . startling. He was like a god. A Greek god to be exact.

OhMyGod. I did _not_ just think that about him.

But he was so . . . elegant . . . handsome . . . _dangerous_ . . .

_Get a grip Vasanti!_ A voice rung out in my head. _He's older than you . . . nine years older to be exact . . . he was doing math equations when you were born! _

_He was so . . . tempting . . . so . . . mysterious . . . _my thought repeated over and over in my head, making me smile.

_Vasanti . . . _the voice groaned.

_Okay! Okay! _I cried from inside, making the voice shut up.

I smirked at him as he twirled me, the song starting to end as I mouthed the words slowly. Closing my eyes, the song ended, the melodies flew by for probably 30 minutes as cameras flashed all over the place as Nathan and I danced in silence.

"You . . . look nice," Nathan finally muttered. "Stunning to be exact. Your eyes are the most noticeable though; the blue is really starting to show."

I looked into his hazel-gold eyes, blushing as he looked down on me, spinning me around the room with the greatest of ease.

"Thank you," I whispered, looking away from him. "You don't look so bad tonight either."

He looked behind me, then whisked me off my feet, sliding around the entire room like an angel as he dragged me to an unknown figure.

_I _did_ feel like a princess . . . kind of . . . not really . . . maybe the dragon didn't have powers . . . _

As we got closer, I smiled as Peter and Rachel nodded to me. Peter was in a tuxedo matching Nathan's, but a darker, black color with a tie tucked in his vest. Rachel was in a low cut silver dress that was slim at the stomach that flared out to the floor, the silver straps of her heels criss-crossing and hovering off of the ground. Her hair was in a bun, some hairs loose and falling to the back of her neck, the diamonds gleaming from her ears.

"Peter, Rachel," I said, nodding.

"Vasanti," Peter said, grabbing my hand and kissing it.

My heart leapt at his touch, his spark more powerful than all the others since he had control over his powers. _Every_ power. Nathan nodded to Rachel, pressing his lips to her hand as he whispered to her.

"So, Nate," Peter smirked, his head turning to Rachel, then back and forth between Nathan and I. "Do you two have a . . . thing now . . .?"

I rolled my eyes. Too many hunches today about boys.

"No," I snapped, a little too sharp. "We're political partners."

"We'll see about the '_political_' part," Rachel nodded at Peter and they smiled at each other, seeming to be laughing from inside.

"We'll be off then," Peter said, finally laughing as he punched Nathan's shoulder.

"Ah, Ms. Gray," a man whispered, cutting through my grip on Nathan's arm. "Care for a dance?"

"Of course," I said quickly, nodding to Nathan as the man dragged me off into the circle.

The man was in a usual tuxedo, his blonde hair brushed back and dark-blue eyes twinkling as his hand set on my waist, twirling me around, my dress spinning. He was clearly, _very_, undeniably handsome _and_ a neutral.

_My prince_.

I smiled to myself as he looked admiringly at my face, seeming to glow.

"You're an amazing dancer, Ms. Gray," he said, his face inches from mine as he drew in a breath.

"Likewise . . ." I started.

"Sheplin," he corrected. "Captain David Sheplin."

"Ah, a captain?" My eyebrows rose in amusement, his eyes dancing playfully. "A man in uniform is my type of man."

"You are simply—"

"Vasanti," Peter called, swinging me into his arms, breaking me away from David. "A dance?"

I suddenly felt as if I couldn't refuse him, smiling shyly as I nodded, grazing into his arms. Everything about him suddenly drew me to him, although I didn't show it, lost in his features. He was sincerely _attracting_ and his eyes were no different than Nathan's, only a darker color of a caramel brown. I could see now why Rachel was crazy-head-over-heels for Peter.

"So, what position will you be taking in the White House?" Peter whispered, smiling.

I groaned. This day was filled with too much talk of politics and everything else associated with the White House.

"No political talk, _please_," I begged, sounding too desperate.

Peter chuckled, switching partners as he caught Rachel's body, perfectly in sync as I stumbled into Nathan. Again. But luckily this time, he saw it coming, and caught me by the arm before I could trip on my heels.

The sudden feeling for Peter was suddenly gone as I stood up, straightening my dress.

_Great_.

I was just _owned_ by Rachel's mind control powers . . . or _Peter's_ mind control powers.

_Holy mother of god._

"I'm sorry," I muttered. "I'm _really_ out of it today."

I stepped towards a large table with plates of food and trays of sandwiches; aiming for a glass of water. Nathan followed, eyeing me carefully as if I was drunk.

_I might as well be drunk._

He grabbed a cookie and handed it to me; I took a look at it admiringly. It was _perfectly_ circular and had a star shape in the middle and almonds were surrounding the edges. I winced and backed away from it, my nose taking a powerful whiff.

"No thank you," I whispered, trying to be calm. "I'm allergic to almonds."

And if a person with abilities was allergic to something and was exposed to it, the allergic reaction was worse than a 'normal' human reaction; sometimes fatal.

Nathan nodded, taking a bite out of the cookie as I sipped the sparkling water miserably; only taking a single sip. I couldn't have champagne here; it'd make a bad impression.

I set the unfinished cup down in a corner, my head snapping up as a touching song (all of them were touching for some reason) played, one of Ashley's favorites.

_To Be With You_-by David Archuleta

My eyes followed Sylar and Ashley's dancing positions, nearly flying around the room. Their bodies were in sync, their laughter piercing through my heart like an unseen sword as if I was the victim of their unintentional homicide.

Sylar's face was streaked with happiness, something _I_ never saw. _Ever_. It was as if I didn't exist. _At all._ His own little world cam together piece by piece, _never ever_ including me. My own brother who raised me, was now going to block me away until I disappeared. Or _died_. The stinging pain of that made me shiver with anger if he'd ever do anything like that; but with Sylar, it was possible—maybe even 'for sure.'

My father's images and memories slammed through my mind, nearly knocking me over as I was about to burst into tears.

Jason had Lily's waist in his arms, and as they glided through the ballroom, it was like time was frozen for them. They gazed into each others' eyes as their lips met, eyes closing.

"You look . . . like a _princess_," Jason muttered in a low tone.

I snapped back into reality, immediately looking away from Sylar and Ashley, my father's images making me want to cry even more now as jealousy tugged at me, the thought of their _perfect _life _without_ me.

I closed my eyes and took in a deep breath, wind from the balcony brushing against my dress, making it ruffle.

_Fresh air._

That's what I needed.

My eyes flew open and I swiftly stepped into the moonlight, the wind chilling my skin and brushing my bangs back. I inhaled the air that was unpolluted with perfumes, crossing my arms over my chest, trying to warm myself from the cold feeling. It was as if the moon shining on my face was a comforter, my hands falling to the railing, tracing the smooth, but freezing cold marble.

"Weird," I whispered.

_Why was the railing cold_? Nothing was _ever_ cold for me. I was losing my mind. The wind made the few trees in front of the garden sway in the wind eerily, my bangs and dress flying with the breeze. The sound of the night creatures chirped in my ears and the wings flapped, the birds flying across the moon, casting a shadow.

Everything outside seemed to calm me, but had a sad edge to it. It was a princess's balcony, but something was missing.

_A prince_.

I tilted my head up towards the moon, my eyes closed as I absorbed the energy from it to me, sighing. The heavy feeling in my chest ached, weighing me down to the bottom of my heels. Tears welled up on the corners of my eyes, ready to fall as I choked back a sob as a soft tear trickled down my cheek, carrying no black residue of my mascara. _Waterproof_.

I clutched onto the railing even harder in pain, trying not to murder my perfectly new polished nails.

"Too much to handle?" Nathan called from behind me, making me flinch.

I forgot he was watching me. I quickly wiped away my tear, turning around to see him crossing his arms, watching me with softness in his eyes as he saw my bewildered expression. A stray tear clinked onto the floor with a clink, breaking. I sighed, wiping both of my eyes, making sure there were no more tears for anyone to see.

"I'm sorry if you have to see me like this," I whispered, trying to smile.

"My apologies for startling you," Nathan nodded.

"It's fine; I didn't expect anyone to come after me."

The wind picked up and I rubbed my arms, crossing them over my chest as goose-bumps rose on my skin, making me feel even _more_ loved by Mother Nature . . . or Liz. I turned around to focus on the moon again, sighing.

I was losing it.

Seriously _losing it_.

Was I being drained of my power? _Right_. I hadn't drank any water for a while, only a single sip today, which wouldn't help at all. Dehydration was bad for my body, especially for my ability. I'd only had a little bit of water over a period of two days.

Something warm braced against my shoulder and wrapped around my freezing arms and to my chest.

It was Nathan's jacket.

I turned around to face him, his hand leaning on the railing next to me. He was wearing a silver vest on top of his black undershirt and his suit and my dress seemed to gleam. As much as I wanted to keep his jacket, I couldn't accept it.

"Nathan, I don't need—"

I started to take off the jacket, but stopped as I took a single small breath and closed my eyes to take in the pleasing smell

It was unimaginable beyond _anything_ in the world.

"Never mind," I whispered. "Thank you . . . very much."

"It's my pleasure, Miss Gray," Nathan had a hard face on—debating?

I pulled the silver jacket closer to me, taking deep breaths of the rich fabric from . . . Greece? Imported fabric . . . of course he would.

"What's got you so down?" Nathan asked, turning to face me, his back now leaning on the railing.

I looked up and behind me, wincing.

"It's hard to see Sylar . . . so . . . happy with her," I sighed. "It's like I don't even exist until we have a fight. I don't want to lose my only family left; if he gets too attached, he'll ditch me and I'll be alone. _All_ alone."

"Are you sure about that?" Nathan's eyes rose.

"_Yes_," I grumbled. "He's just that mean of a brother."

My ears rang as my favorite, old-time song played, nearly making me drop the jacket. I clutched it closer to me, my head held high as I started to step into the White House again, under a spell. The melody was so close to me, making a stirring feeling inside of me explode.

I handed Nathan his jacket and he threw it on as I finally stepped into the warm room again, ditching the cold air, the smell of lilacs and sweet pea filling up my nose.

"Vasanti?" Nathan asked, uncertainty in his voice.

"Nathan," I whispered, grabbing his hand and pulling him into the circle. "C'mon."

A spark crackled through me as I smiled at him, but he didn't seem to return it. I felt happy that the reporters had all gone, so they wouldn't have to keep taking pictures. The stirring feeling still seemed to spark nerves in my body, making me jump with joy as the song exploded into music.

My hands wrapped around his neck and his hand lightly sat on my waist, swinging back and forth to the song.

_You Found Me_-by The Fray

I sighed as I lay on Nathan's shoulder, breathing on his neck quietly, his scar visible.

"May I ask you a question?" I looked up at him.

"Yes, you may," he said, nodding to me.

"Where'd you get your scar?"

He stiffened, but kept swaying, looking down at me as if he didn't want to tell me.

"Near the end of the Iraq War, I was still serving on the American Side," he explained. "My pal Aleo and I were to stay at headquarters while the others tried to find some way to bring back our comrades that were being imprisoned. Aleo and I were young, foolish; we thought we could save them."

Nathan was still moving, but he stared into the distance, lost in his own train of thoughts, hurt crossing his face.

"We succeded, but getting back was the hard part. While coming back, they managed to attack us, but Aleo was the faster man, running off with all our comrades. He was stupid to come back for me, for I had been shot, my leg bleeding heavily and slowing all of us down," he closed his eyes, wincing as if the pain were still there. "I was the coward. I surrendered myself, that was why they didn't shoot me, but Aleo ordered me to go, pulling on me as the shots pierced through the air and into his body. Before he fell to the ground, he scratched at me, ordering me to go, before it was too late.

He got me _right under_ the jaw, an arrow, a sign of loyalty and bravery these days. For me, it's a sign of shame. My fear killed my friend and had us exposed to these . . . diseases."

"But . . . it's not your fault," I protested, "The entire world was in panic. It would have spread anyways. Some people were changing into . . . different species. Only certain people got this . . . virus, but scientists didn't know what the relation of these people had to each other. But it's an honor to have these powers, and _some_ take it for granted."

"I never asked for this," Nathan muttered. "I just wanted to be normal! Why do I have these powers?"

"The Neutrals take being normal for granted," I answered. "But it's our _destiny_ to have these powers."

_But in the end, everyone ends up alone_.

As the entire song's lyrics pounded and echoed through my head, tears started to form again near my eyes.

It was a perfect night, yet so sad.

Somehow, it was familiar, yet faint.

I was a princess. My mother was a princess.

That meant that one of the people here was my prince.

_David? Peter? Nathan? _

Or maybe the answer was _right_ under my nose. Maybe I wasn't supposed to be in love because I was a _Villia_, bred for destruction and evil. I wished my mother were here to talk me into doing something useful, because I felt like I wasn't anything much to the Northern Colonies.

I whipped away the tears and held my head up high. I was _not_ going to let my feelings get in the way of my _duty_. That's what it was . . . duty. Something that people died over, lived through, and had nightmares about.

"My country is all that I have left," Nathan whispered. "It's my _duty_ to protect it."

_There it was again_. Some people think they owe the country, so their duty is to protect it . . . _but from what_?

***

"Miss Gray, you have a good night," Nathan whispered as he opened a door for me, my friends following behind us.

"Likewise, Senator," we all said, turning around and stepping into the limo.

The door for the entrance to the White House was decorated with red velvet, a carpet rolled out to show the invitees to the ballroom. There were flower garlands hanging from a plate, hanging off the ground and beautifully leveled, as if the king were visiting. But _of course_ this was a president's ball, so _everything_ has to be tip top shape.

Sylar and Ashley were already in the limo, passed out as Ashley's head lay on Sylar's shoulder, their hands threaded together, gripping on tight. I waved to Nathan before I slipped into the limo, his figure already walking down the hall to his office, his hands in his pockets.

He looked so amazing when he walked like that, especially because the lights seemed to form a spotlight on him as he turned a corner and disappeared. This night was in the middle of _perfect_ and falling-in-love. I hadn't found my prince but I didn't think I needed to . . . yet.

When I slipped into a corner in the limo, I closed my eyes as I tried to remember the smell of his jacket on my skin, but no longer could commit to memory the smell because of its purity—or rarity. The smell, I wanted so badly almost more than anything in the world.

_So . . . unimaginably . . . I wanted . . . _him?

~End of Chapter Four~

**_*REVIEW PLEASE!*_**


	5. New Arrivals

~Our Notion~

*New Arrivals*

I stepped into my walk-in closet, my single gown on a stand, memories rushing back, making me smile. I pulled out a yellow and white baby doll dress and some white leggings, yawning as I slipped into them.

Walking into my room and stretching, I opened my door for my balcony and stepped out, letting the air cool my skin as I tied my hair into a ponytail.

"Ms. Gray," Mia said, walking into the room and setting a pitcher of water near my schoolbooks. "Your water."

I turned around and smiled.

"Thanks, Mia," I whispered.

"Are you finished with your schoolwork?"

Nodding to her, I closed the open books sprawled out on my bed, throwing them into my backpack.

"How are they treating you at school?" she asked, throwing new towels into my bathroom.

"They're still traumatized, but not as bad as Monday," I groaned. "The girls want Mr. Sivertson and Senator Petrelli's autographs, _especially_ Peter's."

We both laughed and I took a large gulp of water, watching the ice dance on my fingers as I sat down on my bed, the soft blanket consuming my legs, making me sink.

"Rachel won't be happy about that," I chuckled.

"Have you gotten around to talking to Senator Petrelli about your position?" She poked her head out of the bathroom.

"No, not since he's given his number to me," I muttered, pulling out my phone. "There's no reason to."

"Then find a reason," Mia giggled.

"Oh, no, not _you_ too," I groaned.

"He's a politician!" Mia argued, stepping out of the bathroom and sighing. "He has _power_."

"He has _a_ power," I grumbled, setting my phone on my bed as I followed Mia out the door for a snack.

Stepping into the kitchen, I saw that Ashley was here, talking to Sylar on a picnic table on the backyard lawn.

"Bring some fruits outside for them," Mia said, handing me a large glass bowl full of cantaloupe, watermelon, strawberries and blueberries.

_Yum_.

I took a few forks and smiled at Mia. A scream startled me as I looked up, nearly dropping the bowl, but my reflexes were fast, finally collecting together as I gripped onto the bowl.

"It'll be fine, Ms. Gray," Mia assured.

"Thanks Mia," I said, turning and stepping onto the patio.

Sylar and Ashley were nowhere to be seen and I saw dark shadows by the maze, one on the ground as one stood up.

Sylar was kneeling, in his hand, held a ring that gleamed like a diamond.

It finally hit me, making me nearly drop the bowl in a matter of seconds. My brother was leaving me. Ditching me. Feeding me to the wolves. Pushing me away.

His eyes were filled with gold as Ashley stood in front of him, gaping with her hand over her mouth.

"What the hell?" I muttered under my breath, jagged.

I was holding back screams now, my body trembling with hatred. I was going to be abandoned by my only brother. _All_ the family I had left. Probably the _only_ reason I was alive today. And here he was, handing his life into the hands of someone else.

But that's how it was supposed to be. How he was supposed to make a name for us. My hands and lips started to tremble in anger as he started to say the words, my anger nearly shattering the bowl.

"Ashley Berkof," Sylar started. "Will you marry me?"

My mixed emotions got the best of me. Agony, anger, frustration, and betrayal raced through me and before I knew it, the bowl and its contents morphed into ice and I dropped the bowl, shattering even before it touched the ground. Sylar's head snapped around as the glass—sharper than knives—crashed to the wooden patio, watching me disappear into the house, the door left ajar.

So many emotions swirled inside, and there were so many that I didn't even notice that I was crying until I reached my room, locking the door behind me. I didn't know what I was to do, but I pulled out my phone from under my covers and dialed a number and burst out crying as I heard the voice.

"Vasanti, what is it?" his voice cried, giving me a sense that I was protected. "Are you hurt?"

I sniffled like a child as I built up the courage to talk to him as blood rushed to my skull, trying to keep it sane.

"Nathan," I said, breathed, choking up. "Please. I need you. The balcony door's open."

"I'm on it," he said quickly, slapping the phone shut.

"Vasanti!" Sylar called at my door, pounding—not breaking it open like he'd always do.

"Go away Sylar!" I screamed. "I. _Hate_. You!"

"I threw my phone under the covers, rushing out to the balcony as I waited; my hands active throughout the entire five years I waited.

My head snapped up as a blur in the sky materialized next to me, staring at me with worried, sad eyes. I sighed, clutching my heart as I tried to calm myself from my panic attack.

"Nathan," I said, breathless as tears streamed down my face.

"C'mon," he whispered as he held out his hand to me, hovering over my balcony.

I took his hand, gripping onto it, trying to collect myself and stepped on top of the railing, gripping his arm for support, looking back at the door that was shaking. He was still pounding on the door, shouting my name with Mia, Ashley, and Samuel's voice ringing in. I started to push up into Nathan's arms, when I hesitated.

_I'm sorry_. It was time for _me_ to be in control.

I shook away the hesitation out of my head, climbing into his arms as he cradled me, my hand set on his shoulder and my arms wrapped around his neck, bracing myself.

The door flew open at the instant Nathan flew off, Sylar's cries echoing as we flew up, the puff of smoke flowing behind us and finally disappearing.

That's when I realized this was my first time flying. The wind and clouds rushed by, filled with the sweet smell of rain and a sweet fluff that brushed across my face, feeling like melted silk. The smell was like spring, sweet and simple as my eyes wandered down below, the city now small and petite.

The sun in the west glowed a darkened yellow, a tint of orange lingering below as the afternoon started to end, spreading across the entire city like a soft, beautiful blanket of light.

"Vasanti?" Nathan cried, his voice strained. "What happened? Did . . ."

His voice was drowned out as the scent of his aftershave and navy-blue jacket mixed together, my senses immediately inebriated my senses. I wondered if I would smell good after an experience up here, in the clouds or maybe Nathan just _naturally_ smelled like this.

I shrugged the thought away as the tears dried up, little streaks near my eyes, gleaming with the sun's shade of color. I could feel my eyes drooping as my image of the sunset disappearing, covered by a neon-blue darkness, fighting the urge to stay awake, but I was too tired to protest.

***

My eyes flew open as soon as they could and I groaned. I looked around me, I was in Nathan's office, my head rested on a velvet pillow and my body in a sleeping position on his silk-leather couch, a light blanket draped over half of my body. My hair was swayed to one side and my eyes had no trace of tears, light and clear of any trace of tears.

I didn't notice that there was a person sitting next to me in a chair until he spoke up, his voice gruff and deep.

"Miss Gray," Dimitri called beside me.

I pulled myself up so I was propped up on my elbows, tilting my head so I could see Dimitri better. He looked tired with circles under his eyes, his arms crossed and staring at me with his red-gold eyes.

"Hey buddy," I muttered. "How are you and . . .?"

"Valerie," he said, his accent kicking in. "We are . . . fine."

"Good, it's nice to know you have a life outside of your . . ." I hesitated to hurt his feelings, "duty."

"You too, Miss Gray," Dimitri answered. "I heard you and Sylar are having some . . . difficulties."

"Did Nathan tell you?" I whispered, sighing.

My chest heaved at the guild weighed on my shoulders as I hung my head down. I didn't _want_ Sylar to have his heart broken . . . what if . . . _I_ left him?

"Yes, I'm your bodyguard, I should know," he said. "But . . . you should know that Nathan _cares_ about you."

My head snapped up and a weight was carried off of me. _Of course_ I knew Nathan cared about me . . . in a . . . _different_ kind of way. But it never really struck me until he brought it up. He just had to do this because it was his _job_, that's all. Right . . . his job . . . me . . .

"Yes, of course," I laughed, trying to contain my seriousness.

Dimitri glared at me and I smiled at him, my eyes wandering. Nathan stepped into the room then, nodding to Dimitri as I stood up. Dimitri patted me on the back, shaking Nathan's hand and nodding to him.

"Think about it, Miss Gray," Dimitri said before disappearing out the door. "I just may be right."

I sighed, sitting back down on the couch as Nathan sat next to me, trying to keep quiet. He handed me a drink slowly, waiting until I had _full_ grasp of it until he let it go for me. A vanilla latte. _Perfect._ I sipped it slowly as he stared at me carefully, seeming to be looking for something or _waiting_.

"So . . ." I started, confused. "How long was I out?"

"An hour or so," Nathan folded his hands together his eyes staring at the _floor_ now.

"Umm . . . can we go in the garden again?" I whispered. "I think I feel so much more secure in there."

"Of course," he said, taking my latte from my hands and setting it on the corner of his table as we disappeared into the hallway, side by side. "So . . . what happened between you and Sylar are going to be fixed . . . right?"

As we stepped outside the gates, the sun had almost set, only a horizon filled with lines of orange, yellow, red and a hint of purple. I felt as if I could almost paint the image as it burned inside my head. We stepped down on a level, wandering around the flowers and my hand tracing against the silky flowers. Nathan's face glowed as the light reflected off of his face, like he was the king of the world . . . because he was soon to be, I knew it.

"Probably . . . I don't know. But it's just . . . it's just . . . I could have used a heads up beforehand," I sighed. "Sorry for calling you on such a short notice."

"As I said, it's a pleasure to be of assistance," he nodded. "It may come in handy during the presidential election."

"I'll be sure to be your campaign manager," I laughed.

"Or partner."

Again, the image popped into my head. _Partner_. Okay, okay. He meant _Political_ partner. _Chill_. But I couldn't . . . I knew what he meant, and maybe that was the precise reason why I kept picturing things.

"Thanks, Nathan," I whispered, trying to keep my voice quiet, but firm. "You've been the only one who I can trust with my feelings."

"I've got them locked up somewhere," Nathan smiled.

And again, his smile lit up my day, making the fuzzy feeling come back and made me want to take a deep breath and never exhale. I turned around and took his hand into mine, my eyes wandering.

"I feel as if I've gotten so—"

"Vasanti," Sylar called, his voice cold, seeming to echo.

"Sylar," I said, fighting the urge to punch him. "_Go_. _Away_."

"Is it because of this _Solitude_?" He growled. "Well, I'll teach—"

"_Sylar_!" I screamed, making both of them jump. "_Stop_!"

Instinct took over and I leapt in front of Nathan and glared at Sylar. Please don't hurt him. _Please_. He's going to make a difference. I dug my nails into my skin, waiting for his attack. Was I really going to _save_ Nathan?

"A _small secret_ bothering you?" Sylar taunted, his face turning into a haunting smile.

"Oh, screw you, Sylar!" I cried. "You didn't even give me a heads up; you were going to _leave _me!"

"_What_?"

"Don't act like you don't know!" I sneered. "Just kill me for my power already if you want me to _die_."

"What are you talking about?" Sylar cried. "I'm not—"

"Just _go_ if you want me to disappear," I sighed, tears streaming down my face. "You won't . . . you won't _need_ or _want_ me anymore when . . . you're married with Ashley."

Sylar softened; backing away from his protective stance, his face had a pained look to it, as if he finally understood how I felt.

"No, Vasanti," he whispered. "I would never . . ."

"Then why, Sylar?" I sniffed.

"It was short notice, and I—"

"Didn't have any time to tell me," I filled in icily. "When you talk to me . . . is it _ever_ a praise? _No_! It's always an _insult_ about something that I've worked _so _hard—_too hard_—for! Don't you know? It hurts Sylar! It _hurts_!"

Nathan patted my shoulder as I leaned into his chest, sobbing.

"Oh, no," Sylar whispered, stepping closer. "Not you, Icebeam."

Sylar threw me into his arms, patting my hair as he pulled me away from Nathan, whispering in my ear. My hand reached out for Nathan, and he took it, squeezing it, letting me be dragged away towards the gate by Sylar.

"Thank you, Nathan," I whispered.

Nathan nodded to me as he stepped into one of the flower bushes and disappeared as he turned his back, making the yearning feeling come back. I closed my eyes as I felt loved for once by Sylar ever since mom and dad died.

***

When I appeared in the doorway, a group of people—it was only three—hugged me and I smiled as Samuels's frightened and worried face, lit up.

"I thought we lost you," he cried, pulling me into an embrace.

"To the _Solitudes_?" I scoffed. "_Never_."

"I'm sorry Vasanti," Sylar whispered, patting me on the back as we all sat down in the living room.

I sat next to Ashley, who looked as if she was going to cry as she tried to smile at me and Sylar. I winced as I realized what I should have done a while ago. Ashley was a nice girl, and she'd risked _everything_, including her life, just to be with a psychopathic killer like Sylar. It was about time _I_ return the favor.

"Hey Ashley, guess what?" I said calmly, then screamed. "You're getting _married_!"

She looked at me as if to ask 'are you _serious_?' and I threw my hands around her in an embrace.

"You know what, Icebeam?" Sylar laughed. "You're not losing a brother, but you're gaining a sister."

I smiled at Sylar, and for once, Sylar returned my smile, which gave me an even larger reason to hold on tighter to my brother _and_ sister.

~End of Chapter Five~

**_*REVIEW PLEASE!*_**


	6. Frozen Kiss

This chapter is soo cute .. i luv it .. XD enjoy!

*Frozen Kiss*

~The Next Day~

Dear Sylar and Ashley,

I'm going out for a walk. I think I need some air and refresh my system with new thoughts. I'll be gone for a few hours, no more than that. Don't worry about my homework, okay? I finished that . . . decades ago. I love you both.

~Vasanti Gray~

I set the note on my desk, sighing as I pulled out my phone from under my lamp and shoved it into my pocket, brushing my hair for the last time, the curls still full of volume.

Slipping out the door with a t-shirt over my tank-top and short-shorts under my capris, just in case it got too warm, I smiled as the sun was hidden behind a few clouds; not too bright. I slowly closed the gates, trying not to make a squeak as the metal gates locked together, linking onto each other.

I didn't care about where I was going, I just needed some fresh air to clear my mind of everything that had happened to me. I needed some space for myself.

But I found myself heading west, towards the countryside, smiling at the greens that seemed to take over the land. The skies were full of clouds, moving slowly as they blocked the sun, meaning that Liz was bored to death or maybe she was grounded . . . again?

I shrugged, absorbing back into my thoughts as I kept walking, the wind blowing at me, sending my hair flying. I blinked a few times to get rid of the dust in my eyes, brushing away some mascara.

"Great," I muttered under my breath. "So much for Sylar's make-up buying skills."

Behind me, leaves crunched and my head turned to the side as I kept walking, just enough so I could see that there were three _Solitudes_. A pretty good group for people who are usually on their own.

"Shit," I mumbled.

I wasn't really the one to swear, but they'd caught me off guard, and I was in my leisure time right now. Couldn't I get some time to myself _without_ meeting _Solitudes_?

I turned around and faced them, two of them girls and one of them a man, a bit older than I was.

One of the girls had blonde-nearly-white hair with black highlights, her dark hazel eyes staring at me with disgust. She wore a black t-shirt with a short, plaid dress with combat boots that seemed to boost her height, if she wasn't tall already.

Anna. Such an innocent name, yet so wrong for her. She was the _exact opposite_ of the name and its meaning.

But what was distinct about her, was that she had the _Solitude_ crest choker on her. By what I know about her, she didn't have an ability. The crest was important to both sides, and once you put it on, you were officially a part of the side; no turning back.

I'd never seen the _Solitude_ crest up close before, and now that I saw it, it looked amazing compared to ours. The _Villia_ crest was a two-sided silver metal, with a tint of gold and was in a shape of an oval, like all crests were. The exterior had vines looping the outside, swirling and dancing around, and the interior design had an engraved pair of hands crossing each other into a skinny X, the other side, which you could flip and clip on, was engraved with a tint of color, but the entire thing dark and eerie. The red, bloodshot eyes stared out into the distance, looking and thirsting as its vampire fangs bared, ready to kill.

The _Solitude_ crest was two-sided also, but theirs were more complicated because they were just obnoxiously rich and could put _anything_ on theirs for any amount of money. One side was a picture of a boy, his eyes staring out to capture the other's gazes, the golden-emerald eyes never ceased its color and the boy had a cape flowing behind him, the background filled with mountains and a seemingly real flash of light. One the other side, was a girl with her curled hair flowing behind her, the same eyes staring out, but with a tint of sadness in them. The outside design for both sides were snakes for some reason, reminding me of Medusa and her snake-like hair.

These crests were worn as jewelry, and they came in all sizes and forms, but was always made so they could be reversible and you could have access to both sides. The boys or men usually had wristbands, armbands, headbands, pins, rings or others that I couldn't think of. The women usually had the crests as earrings, bracelets, rings, piercings, anklets, headbands, pins, hair ties and many more.

Sylar wore his as a ring on his right finger, the one he used to slice heads open with, which I think was a _huge_ coincidence. Samuels had his as a ring also, just to show people that he was a _Villia_ when he was driving past the civilians.

Anna wore hers as a choker, the small pendant the size of a fingernail, but the design was still visible from a few feet away.

The other girl she was with had long, dark-almost black hair pulled into a ponytail, the waves determining if she owned a straightener or not. She had caramel-chocolate eyes and her glasses made her eyes even more dangerous to look at. Her crest was a bracelet, the two coils wrapping around her hand and the snakes seeming to squeeze her hand.

Ursula.

The two girls wore all black and their make-up said it all. They were _Goth_ or _Goth wannabes_.

Jeremy, the guy, was wearing a deep green jacket over a green-blue t-shirt, his short brown hair making him seem harmless as his eyes never left me.

I knew all of them from school; their own little fourth of the section in the halls were always filled with Jeremy and Anna holding hands.

"So, Anna," Ursula smirked at me. "What shall we do with this _Villia_?"

_Don't look into her eyes . . . don't . . ._

I knew she had the ability to hypnotize you with a single look and after you were hypnotized, she would _kill_ you. I had to watch out for Jeremy also, because he could cause you massive pain if you touched him or he touched you.

"Just get her," Jeremy grumbled.

"With _pleasure_," Ursula laughed.

They step forward towards me and I shivered as their voices echoed and rung through the deserted country.

I quickly threw my hands to my back, pressing the speed dial button and backing away. I could hear the voice asking my name and I finally spoke to them, trying to give my caller a clue.

"You don't want to do this," I muttered. "I'm not a _Villia_."

"Hey sugar, don't get so spicy," Jeremy taunted, stepping towards me, his hand outstretched. "Killing you could get to Sylar, then we'd win our country back from this freak show president."

"Don't touch me," I cried, bringing out my hand, the blue ice crackling in anger. "It doesn't have to be this way. I don't mean _anything_ to Sylar."

"We'll see about that," Anna whispered.

"We need to wipe out the _Villia_ population," Ursula muttered. "Let us do our part in the cycle of life."

"But you _know_ I'm not a _Villia_," I cried.

"Then _choose_."

"You're either a _Villia_ or a _Solitude_," Anna ordered. "And as a sister of the largest _Villia_ leader in the world, we _know_ you're a _Villia_."

"How can you guys just _do that_ to people?" I scoffed. "Just because our parents or brothers are _this_, it means I'm it too?"

"Not your parents," Jeremy muttered. "Just your brother."

Ursula slapped him in the shoulder, muttering to him in swear words.

"Just. Get. Her."

"But—" I started as Jeremy stepped closer.

I screamed as Jeremy grabbed my arm, the pain shooting up like someone had electrocuted me, my veins pumping throughout my body with pain, rushing to my brain as soon as possible to numb myself so I could be killed immediately. My scream pierced the air, my lungs starting to explode as I gasped for a breath.

_Please hurry, _please_. _

"Vasanti!" I heard the voice yell

As I recognized the voice, protection suddenly overcame me, making me fly back as he flew into Jeremy, knocking him over. I wiggled my fingers, shaking my arm, numb as I pinched the spot where Jeremy had grabbed me, a red spot starting to form on it.

Nathan and Jeremy wrestled with each other in an awkward way, Nathan disappearing into the sky and appearing as he slammed into Jeremy, knocking him over without any warning. Anna's eyes widened in warning as Nathan threw a punch into Jeremy's gut, an unappealing sound splitting the air.

Nathan flew next to me, hovering onto the ground next to me, his body leaning over me as he checked my arm, his brown suit streaked with dust. Our eyes met for a split second, and the apologetic look crossed his eyes, as if it was _his_ fault.

"Nathan," I sighed, breathless.

"Senator Petrelli," Ursula muttered. "You're going to help us kill her, right?"

"No," he growled. "Let her go."

"You're. Siding. With. The. _Villia's_?" Jeremy said, about to blow.

Jeremy leapt up, his hand in fists as he trudged towards Nathan, about to throw a death punch to him. I pushed Nathan out of the way as I rammed Jeremy to the ground, everything too fast for me to even comprehend. I ignored the pain that shot up my body for a split second, and before I could control it, the ice screamed from my fingers, slipping into Jeremy's body as he started to let go of my hand, freezing into a sculpture of ice.

The negative degree ice swirled with smoke as I stepped away, staring at my hands as I backed up. Anna cried out, tears streaming onto Jeremy's ice sculpture as she hugged his frozen body, her head resting on his chest as she stared at me with eyes so cold, I thought that _I'd_ freeze.

Nathan stared at me, his eyes clearly telling me that he was surprised as he looked away, his eyes darting to see Ursula's eyes, cold and stone-like. My life flashed before my eyes and I screamed, his body ten feet away from me. I was too far away to help him as Ursula pulled out a pocket knife, smirking as he looked into her eyes, his body frozen and eyes hypnotized.

"_Nathan_! NO!" I shrieked, the echoes mocking me.

And before I could blink, he was on the ground, clutching his stomach as Ursula ran past me, Jeremy's ice sculpture lying on the ground next to me, untouched.

I shook my head as Nathan's image made me want to throw up. The knife in his side had been pulled out, and the blood trickled slowly away from his body as he reached towards me . . . or gestured me to run.

Ursula stared at me with cold eyes as she pulled on Anna, nearly ripping her arm off as Anna stumbled away from Jeremy, screaming at Ursula. Anna pulled out her knife and threw it at me, and before I knew it, I was flying.

The air made my eyes flutter, tears streaming as I thought about my death. The pain still seemed to burst in my lungs as I held onto Nathan, trying not to let go as he supported me with a hand around my waist, feet dangling.

"OhMyGod," I cried, burying my face into his shoulder. "Nathan—"

"Its okay, Vasanti," Nathan whispered, gripping onto me tighter. "They won't hurt you _anymore_."

And like a child who was afraid of monsters, I _believed_ him. Nathan suddenly groaned and I looked up at him.

"Nathan, are you—"

"No, I'm not," Nathan muttered.

I closed my eyes, letting the wind soothe me as I relaxed myself.

"Get in the house, Vasanti," Nathan whispered as we landed on soft, clearly cut glass.

I opened my eyes and gasped. Nathan's house was . . . amazing. The backyard was filled with lilacs and beyond that, there were trees and some houses you could barely see throughout the woods he had surrounding the backyard of his house.

As I stepped up the patio, supporting Nathan on me, I opened the sliding door, slipping into the kitchen. To the right was a door and was labeled 'Spare Room' and to the left was another door which I didn't know what was in there.

The kitchen seemed to be the largest room besides Nathan's office space, which was next to the kitchen, divided by the small living room containing a large couch that seemed to take up the entire room, along with a T.V. that sat across the couch along with a mini refrigerator.

I peeked passed the counter and stared at the front door along with four other rooms lined the perfect space between each other, one of them labeled 'Storage.' Across from that room was a bathroom with the door open, fit for a king as it seemed to sparkle from cleanliness.

If you walked right into the house from the front door, you'd be staring right into Nathan's office, which was evenly centered with the front door. The office had a large missile-proof window with the American flag next to it, a leather swivel chair sitting behind an expensive wooden desk and two leather sofas facing each other and the swivel chair in front of the desk. The window gave the perfect view of the Statue of Liberty, holding her torch like she was the queen of the world.

"Do you stay here much?"

"No, I usually spend my days at the office," Nathan whispered, drinking a glass of water. "My neighbors fix things up for me here; Maria works at the hotel, so she brings soap and shampoo here for me."

I looked around, everything was tidy and perfect, not a speck of dust.

"Vasanti, get washed up while I call the office," Nathan said, pointing to the amazing king's bathroom. "I'll have to spend the night here tonight."

I nodded and stepped towards the bathroom.

As I was rubbing the luscious tropical strawberry shampoo into my hair, I remembered that Nathan was _hurt_, but he didn't say anything about it. I sighed, internally punching myself for putting _myself_ before the _Senator_.

After I put conditioner in my hair and rubbed my entire body with soap, I stepped out of the shower and dried myself off and dried my hair, I changed back into my tank-top and short shorts, pulling my hair into a bun.

When I stepped out of the bathroom, Nathan hung up the phone, groaning as he took off his jacket. I gasped and dropped my towel, my mouth nearly dropping to the floor. The 15 minutes that I'd been in the shower, the blood of his wound's blood had soaked through his undershirt and to his vest.

"OhMyGod, Nathan," I cried, sitting next to him on his black leather couch. "Are you okay?"

He unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it down as he took off his vest. As he pulled off his vest, I finished unbuttoning, pulling his shirt off, my neck on his shoulder as I stood up to take off his shirt, biting my lip from the revolting smell.

"You smell good, aside from the blood," he laughed, his head laying back, sweating in pain.

"Hey, no smelling my hair," I muttered.

"You do it all the time," Nathan argued.

I blushed as I backed away, his wound not as bad as I had expected. The knife had gone through his skin, but didn't seem to penetrate the organs too badly . . . just little scratches and that the skin seemed to be breathing.

I pulled out random aid materials as I tended his wounds for the next 30 minutes, my eyes catching his every few moments. I never noticed how buff he was, especially with his shirt off. For a Senator, he _was_ ripped . . . I could say he worked out . . . nearly everyday?

_OhMyGod, stop, Vasanti._

I snapped out of it and wrapped a gauze around his stomach, nodding as I stood up to make some dinner for us. I looked outside as I stirred the noodles, the view of Lady Liberty making me wonder about what people thought about Lady Liberty in the 21st century. It started to rain as I kept thinking deep thoughts, the soft pitter-patter making me think of Liz. It started out slow and soft, but then it was pounding at the windows.

Nathan walked in with a pair of blue pajama pants and an unbuttoned shirt, digging into the dinner as I looked behind me to study the weather change.

"Don't like thunder?" Nathan asked, taking a sip of his glass of water.

"No," I muttered. "Something's wrong when it's like this, especially if there's thunder and lightning."

"Controlling the weather?"

I nodded and excused myself from the table after finishing half of me meal, even though I was starving before.

"I have a question," he said, turning to me as I was walking out of the arched doorway to the living room. "Do you _really_ have me on speed dial?"

I flushed a pink color and left the room without saying anything, but to him, that was the biggest answer for him.

I pulled out my phone and dialed Liz's number, waiting for her to pick as the thunder crackled, lightning splitting through the air.

"Oh, my lord, Vasanti!" Liz cried. "Where have you been?"

Thunder crackled and I sat down on the soft memory foam of the couch.

"What's the matter?" I whispered, staring at the black screen of the T.V.

"Is it Vasanti?" I heard Sarah cry. "Where has she been?"

"I'm fine, Liz," I said, trying to sound collected. 'I'm at Nathan's house."

I heard them giggle and rolled my eyes, but Liz still seemed to be bothered.

"What happened, Liz," I asked, my words creased with worry. "Something. Happened."

"Vasanti, today's the _worst_ day of my life," Liz cried. "Sylar _and_ my mom found out I was dating a _Solitude_! It just slipped when Sylar came over to see if you were here. He was talking about the _Solitudes_ that made me . . ."

She was going into hysterics, speaking faster and faster.

"Liz, it's okay! It's _okay_!" I screamed so she would be quiet.

The thunder and lightning ceased a little bit after that, the rain like teardrops patting on the window beside me.

"Liz?" I asked, finally after a few moments of silence on the phone. "What's it like to date a _Solitude_?"

There was a pause before she could answer, as if it was too good to explain into words for me.

"It's like the whipped cream and cherry on top of a sundae," Liz said, the pain too much. "He's my total apposite . . . with a dangerous edge. That's what makes me love him."

I thought for a moment. It didn't matter to Liz if he was a _Solitude_ or anything else in the world, she loved him for who he was, not which group he was in or what he did for a living. There was _some_ kind of force _out there_ that could solve the _Solitude _and _Villia_ problems, but _what_? I had to find it . . . and I had to stop this war between different clans, before things got out of hands.

"Don't worry Liz," I whispered. "You're going to get him_ back_; I'll make _sure_ of it."

***

I woke up with a start as the thunder crackled and lighting lit up the sky. I leaned back on my elbows, running a hand through my hair. Liz's mom must be lecturing her about _Solitudes_ and how all the stereotypes about them are _real_.

I slipped out of the room that Nathan had showed me to, a door down from his bedroom and in the middle of the three rooms by the front door. His room was the farthest away from the front door, right next to his office.

My head peeped from out of my door and I tiptoed to Nathan's room, the door opened and my eyes darted in.

He was groaning and moaning in pain, I could see the blood that started to soak in the bandage around his stomach. His arms were at his sides, gripping onto the sheets as his head was beaded with never-ending sweat. He'd taken his shirt off and his upper body looked red with heat, but still muscular as he heaved his breaths, trying to get oxygen into his body. His chest heaved in and out as he struggled, the pain on his face saying it all as he gripped on tighter to the sheets.

I tiptoed over to his bedside, my hand shaking as it pressed onto his forehead, and I cried out, my hand flying back in pain. It was . . . _burning_! He was probably running a fever of 107, but for me, it was 207.

Nathan flinched and slowly, he opened his eyes to look at me.

"Nathan," I muttered. "You're burning up, are you . . ."

"Ouch," Nathan whispered. "I feel . . . I can barely move . . ."

I bit my lip as I sat down on the edge of the bed, lightning lighting up the room and showing our proximity as I set my hand on his hand to comfort him. A ring was slipped on his finger, and I hadn't noticed it before.

The _Solitude_ crest.

I had never noticed that he wore it though . . . weird . . . I was so unobservant of him . . . or _maybe_ I was too busy . . .

He groaned and I snapped out of my thoughts, my hands trembling as I thought of my choices. He was hurt . . . _badly_. He needed treatment . . . treatment meant the hospital . . .

"I need to get you to a hospital," I said, squeezing his hand, his skin seeming to burn into mine.

"No," Nathan mumbled, his pale lips moving slowly. "Find another way."

"What?" I cried, nearly screaming. "Are you _insane_?"

Did Nathan want to _die_ or something? God, I wanted to kill him so badly for being such a _jerk_ at this point. But if he _did _want to die, I could just kill him now and end his miseries.

"Vasanti, your ability is ice," Nathan picked a _great_ time to point out the obvious. "You can just . . . let the ice run through my body."

_Great_, just _great_. I wasn't _that_ advanced yet . . . I had always had help . . . God! I was going _crazy_. Nathan just picked the _best_ times to blurt things out like that—where was Dr. Adraithan when you _needed_ him?

I snapped my finger and a drop of ice fell onto his arm, melting immediately as it made contact with his skin. _What if I kill him?_ Whatever, it's what he wanted, because he wouldn't go to the hospital.

"Fine, Nathan," I grumbled. "Just . . . brace yourself."

My skin burned as both of my hands held his single hand, licking my lips to apply a firm coat of saliva on my lips as I pressed them against the back of his hand, his scorching skin shocking my lips.

A flash of lightning struck, seeming to be right outside the window awkwardly. I breathed out as the ice built up in my mouth, itching to be forced out.

_Don't kill him . . . don't kill him . . . remember what Dr. Adraithan said . . . slow and steady._

The ice transferred under his skin and started pumping throughout his body, melting and cooling his blood as it made contact with the scorching hot blood.

As I took in a breath of his luscious smelling skin and exhaled, another cycle began again, his skin still scorching mine, but not as bad as before as I breathed out onto his skin.

"What did you just do?" he asked, his voice more relaxed now. "That feeling is . . . amazing."

"It's called the _Frozen Kiss_," I said as another flash appeared. "I practice it with a doctor I meet one in a while. It transfers cooled liquid throughout your body to cool the blood."

He nodded and laid his head back to relax himself as I pressed my lips against his hand again, shifting as my ice kept pumping into his body.

"At least you have someone you can depend upon," Nathan whispered.

"You have Peter," I said. "Shouldn't that be enough? He loves you."

And I _knew_ that was true. Peter would risk his life to save Nathan . . . and Nathan would risk his life to save Peter—if only _I_ had a brother like that.

"But someone like a doctor who can give constructive criticism," Nathan protested, gripping onto my hand as I backed away. "Someone I can trust to keep my _curse_ a secret."

"But it's not a curse, it's a—"

"For me _it is_," Nathan cried. "I didn't vouch for _this_ when I entered the military."

His forehead creased and he grimaced, taking in a deep breath.

"Why me?" he shook his head. "I'd rather just . . . _forget_ that I ever _had_ an ability and just focus on the future."

"We . . . _need_ you," I glared at him, patting his hand. "You are the _one_ leader that our species depends upon. The one with power. Without you, there _is_ no future for us. They'll lock us up in labs, doing tests on us, injecting us with things that will kill us, or study our severe allergic reactions to things."

My head throbbed and my stomach churned as I released the ice a final time into Nathan's body, something suddenly seeming to be lost as I backed out of his body. Stars seemed to fly around the room, dancing upon the walls and bouncing back into me.

"But what can I do?" he asked.

"Seriously, Nathan, you can't be _that_ politically challenged," I grumbled. "The Election?"

"President."

My head finally gave away, slapping me onto the ground, the pain shooting from my head and down throughout my entire body as I laid there, barely breathing. I didn't know what was happening, but I knew I was tired and I needed to rest and . . . get _hydrated_.

I was so irrational!

I didn't drink any water, even when it was laid out right in front of me!

"Vasanti?" Nathan muttered, shaking my shoulders as he knelt on the ground beside me.

My eyes fluttered for a second like a butterfly's wings, and then finally closed, my chest heaving with pain as I tried to take a breath. He hung over me, his body seeming to be a 'normal' temperature now and slapped me lightly on the cheek, but I didn't move . . . I was too tired. He lifted my head so my neck rested on his arm, shaking me lightly.

"Vasanti," he whispered in a calm voice.

"Nathan . . ." I muttered, my mouth dry and my throat parched as I grabbed onto him. "_Water._"

He set my head gently on the floor and rushed off, disappearing into the darkness, the clanging of glass was the last sound I heard before my head fell limp onto the floor.

The _Frozen Kiss_ transferred cooled liquid throughout the body to cool down the blood . . . but there was one thing I _didn't _tell him—I was the one stuck with _his_ blood.

And I lay there, boiling water taking over my body.

~End of Chapter Six~

**_*review please!*_**


	7. Redemption

~Our Notion~

*Redemption*

As water splashed on my face, I nearly choked as the cool sensation ran down my face, water being shoved down my throat like an ocean zone. I coughed and sputtered, the water absorbing into my skin and bringing the cool sensation back into my blood.

"Oh, my god!" I screamed, my head flying up.

"Good, you're awake," Nathan said, sighing as he threw his head on the pillow next to me.

I launched myself from my sleeping position, grabbing the glass of water out of Nathan's hand.

"Thanks for trying to drown me," I grumbled, gulping the glass down and setting it on the desk, sighing.

"It's my pleasure," he laughed, shifting as he closed his eyes, leaping onto the bed.

I stared out the window; the rain finally calmed down and was patting on the roof, soft and sad. My eyes darted back to Nathan, calmly sleeping soundly on his bed, his hands under his pillow, blanket draped over his knees. His face was flushed red from the heat in the house, lips pressed in a thin line as he took gradual breaths, his muscular chest heaving.

I tilted my head to get a better look at him, my lips curving into a small smile, filled with sadness. I shook the smile away and carried the glass cup to the sink, washing it silently and setting it on the drying rack.

I looked around me, taking in the surroundings as I stared out the window, looking at Lady Liberty's torch as the flame moved in little dances that seemed to be choreographed to look so real.

A million things seemed to bother me as I walked into the room he'd set up for me as I was dripping wet with the water he'd poured on me. I pulled out one of his t-shirts in his closet and threw on the oversized t-shirt over me, nearly draping over my shorts.

A gazillion things ran through my head as my head hit the twin sized bed, nagging at me. But I was sure about three of them.

One, Nathan was a solitude.

Two, I was attracted to him _and_ obsessively in love with him.

Three, I was the sister of a Villia, and I didn't know how this would work if it didn't for Liz and Liam.

I needed _major_ help. Everything negative came into my head, prodding at my sensitivity as I tried to concentrate on _anything_ positive that would be able to make me go to sleep.

He was nine years older than me, but somehow—I didn't mind. He had the dangerous and mysterious edge that I craved for.

I'd known that I was attracted to him the day at the club, and now I knew—my drunken side—was finally right. But something positive—with a hint of negativity—struck me, and was the only thing I thought of until my eyes drooped and I fell asleep.

_Nathan was the superhero a damsel in distress had always dreamed of, and I had him to myself . . . I hoped. _

_***_

Sunlight reflected off the angel-white walls, testing my patience as I tried to close my eyes again and fall back asleep.

I finally yelled out as I jumped out of bed, finally realizing that I wasn't in _my_ house. I was in _Nathan's_ house. I looked at myself—at what I was wearing—and groaned. Sylar would _kill me_—literally—if he found me in someone else's clothes; especially a _Solitude_.

I rushed out of the room and into the bathroom across the hall, washing my face with cool water and pulling my hair into a ponytail after brushing my haystack of hair.

Staring at myself through the mirror, I realized there were circles under my eyes; not _that_ visible, but they were _there_. I yawned and stretched myself, cracking my knuckles and snapping my fingers to see if I still had my ability to work with; especially because of last night.

As I walked out of the bathroom, I ran into Nathan, stepping out from the kitchen after getting ready in the bathroom in the kitchen. I backed up into the bathroom, staring at him.

Now that I'd proven to myself that I was intertwined in a little love life of his, he was as _sexy_ as ever and I couldn't deny it at all, even if I wanted to.

He smelled exceedingly of aftershave and his suit was perfectly ironed, his hair slicked back. His hazel-gold eyes stared into mine for a second, seeming like forever as I stared back and got lost in them.

"Oh, I'm . . ."

"Sorry," he said reaching behind me to grab his tie. "Feeling better?"

Urgh, how could he be so . . . _professional_ after last night?

"A bit," I whispered.

He fumbled with his tie, his fingers getting messed up with the pattern of the tie and I sighed, patting on his hand.

"I've got it," I offered.

I was about his ear height, so I had to reach up high to tie it, flipping his tie over and patting it in place. Smiling up at him, I shrugged as if to say: "I'm capable of anything, aren't I?"

"Do you have any . . . extra clothes . . . for me?" I asked, looking around.

"Oh . . . of course," he answered, gesturing towards my room, leading me into the room and opening a sliding closet, revealing _quite_ a few varieties of clothes.

My eyebrows rose, suspicion filling them as I looked up at him. He backed up, his hands up as _if_ he was innocent.

"I don't think Rachel or Tracy will mind if you wear their clothes," he said, gesturing towards the clothes of different colors.

"Thanks," I muttered, closing the door as he stepped out.;

_Tracy?_ Who the hell was that?

I threw my hands into the closet, my fingers brushing against the clothes, pulling out something that I thought would please the eye.

I slipped into one of Rachel's spring dresses that draped down to the knee. It was a white dress with small yellow flowers at the ruffles on the shoulders and an orange ribbon that ran across my stomach and tied to the back into a bow tie, the strands hanging down to my ankles.

***

I looked at my glass of water on the table, but I was _really_ staring at Nathan from above, eyeing him as he ate his cereal slowly, looking at the sports section of the newspaper. His neck twisted from side to side, trying to interpret the newspaper's articles as his face twisted in confusion.

I swallowed down the oatmeal, the gross taste staying in my mouth as I gulped down my water and poured the pitcher into my cup after I finished. I threw my finished bowl into the sink behind me as the silence went on, a slow piano melody on the radio that sat on his 'office desk,' the speakers tuned down low.

I sat my glass into the sink as my head turned around to face Nathan, about to ask for his bowls; when my glass cup slipped from my hand, crashing to the ground and shattering.

Nathan's head snapped up to see my shocked face.

"What is it?"

My mouth was parted open and I couldn't move as my mouth was dry and speechless.

"Vasanti!" he yelled from across the table.

I blinked a few times, trying to renew my eyesight, convincing myself that I was seeing things. But as many times as I blinked, I saw the same thing over and over.

"Nathan . . ." I whimpered, my finger shaking as I pointed to the front cover of the New York Times.

I ran behind him and spread out the cover in front of him. And no more than that, plastered on the front page, was an article about Nathan Petrelli and an unknown woman in _bed_. _Me._

The flashes last night weren't lighting, it was the flashes from a camera. How could I have been so stupid? Sylar was going to _murder_ someone—and that would be _me_.

In the far left corner of the photograph, it was credited to _anonymous_. No, I knew who _they_ were.

Ursula and Anna.

I wanted to punch something _so badly_ as the anger built up inside of me, boiling just as bad as my boiling _skills_.

_Senator Petrelli _and_ girlfriend?_

_Who is this mystery woman? _

"I'm _really, really_—you don't know how . . ." I stuttered, rushing up pick up the glass.

"Vasanti, its okay," Nathan whispered, trying to sound calm, collected.

"_What_ are you _talking about_?" I cried. "It's _not_! What about your career? Your platform will be _ruined_!"

"Vasanti," Nathan's voice seemed to rise.

I kneeled on the floor and started picking up the pieces. It was my entire fault. I needed to make this up to him somehow—but I didn't know how.

"What if they get a picture of you _flying_?" I muttered. "I . . . Nathan . . . what if . . .? I'm worried . . ."

I turned around to look at him and he was hovering over me, kneeling close to me, face inches from mine. I stared into his eyes and then his lips, longing for mine to be pressed against them. He could see the longing in my eyes and leaned closer, our lips barely touching.

I could feel the heat radiating off of him and his breath hot on my face as my cool breath breathed on his. I pushed myself closer to him, our lips nearly touching.

My hand sliced against the glass and I cried out, jumping up from our 'attempted' kiss and clutched my hand. The blood seeped through the gaps in my fingers and I stood up, away from the glass as I moved my hand away to look at the gash that sliced through my entire palm.

"Are you . . .?" he whispered, taking a step towards me.

I stepped away, yearning for him to come closer, but needing my own space for now.

"No."

I turned and raced towards the bathroom I'd used today, running my hand over the warm water, wincing as I dabbed on it with a towel.

"Clean your cut with the alcohol," Nathan said, leaning against the door as I stared at the cut for a long time.

_Oh, thanks_, I thought to myself. _Now just to prepare myself for the sting_.

As I sighed, debating on whether I should pad on the alcohol or pour an entire bottle on it, Nathan stepped inside the bathroom, Closter phobia sinking in as I backed up, his whole body inside the bathroom.

His intense smell made me step closer, but not as far as I wanted to as his hands searched for my wound. He took my hand gently as I sat down, trying not to hurt me, but he didn't know how good it felt, how warm his hands were to my freezing cold hands.

He dabbed on alcohol to my hand with a cotton ball as I winced.

We didn't speak as he tended my cut; the pressure was a stinging but pleasurable pain, just as long as he was here.

_Holy mother of . . ._

I closed my eyes, trying to calm myself. I sounded like someone from a _sappy_ love movie or something. _Just as long as you're here with me . . . all the pain disappears, my love._

This was the closest we'd ever been to each other and the feeling weighed down on me.

_Vasanti . . ._ the devil from inside cried. _He's always going to be busy if you . . . want him._

_Maybe that's why he's so . . . appealing to her_, the angel from inside whispered, more powerful and echoing.

A spark went on from inside as she said it, making me blink a few times before looking up at him as he wrapped a gauze around my hand.

_She was right_. He was dangerous and I didn't see him often . . . which would make my lust . . . overpowering.

"Done," he said, his voice bouncing off of the walls around us.

I nodded and stepped out as he rolled up his sleeves and washed his hands carefully while I swept up the broken pieces of glass and throwing it into the garbage.

Before he could come back, I washed the dishes, drying them and setting them in a cupboard.

"Hmm," I whispered, curiosity tinting my voice.

I quickly ripped through the cupboards, making _sure_ I put things back as I found them. Finally, all the ingredients sat on the table neatly and all the cupboards closed, my hands on my hips in satisfaction.

"Well, what's this?" Nathan said, stepping into the kitchen, clapping his hands together and rubbing them. "A feast?"

"Nope, I'm craving cupcakes," I whispered, setting a bowl beside me. "I haven't had them for a while."

"Well then," Nathan threw me an apron as he tied one around his waist. "Let's start mixing."

I threw out the apron and started talking, throwing the butter and sugar into a bowl to mix with.

"Mix it until it's light and fluffy," I said, letting him stir it up as I sifted the flour into it.

He looked at me as he stirred and added the mix into the tray, the colorful fluted paper being smothered with the mix and spreading out to cover the entire bottom surface. I smiled at him, cracking an egg and adding the food coloring and sugar for the icing.

We didn't talk throughout the whole cooking hour as a song played on the radio, probably a good song for Nathan.

Come On Get Higher-By: Matt Nathanson.

Ironic, right?

I danced around the table as Nathan mixed up the red, white, and blue icing and I threw the two trays of 16 cupcakes into the warm oven, heating it up to about 3500. I skipped over to Nathan's shoulder, Rachel's dress brushing against my leg as I dipped a spoon into the blue icing, licking it and closing my eyes in pleasure as the sugar made my taste buds dance.

"You've got to try it," I laughed, dipping my finger into the bowl and aiming for his mouth, but instead, the frosting brushed across his nose. "Whoopsie."

I giggled as he turned to face me, the frosting making a cool blend with his skin.

"Oh, really?" he muttered, splatting me in the face with icing. "Take _that_!"

"OhMyGod!" I gasped, slamming some icing onto his shirt. "You are _on!_"

I ducked behind a chair as Nathan flung a spoonful of frosting to me, landing in my hair and part of Rachel's dress, the blue tint not making a good contrast with the dress.

I grabbed the closest icing bowl on the table and dipped my hand into the bowl, flicking the red icing at him, splattering on his face and shirt that was exposed. A perfect match with his tie color.

I laughed out loud and we went to war. An _Icing_ War. This would go down in history.

Everything was a blur as the icing quantity depleted, covering the ground, tables and walls as we kept flinging frosting to each other, never ending.

"Do you give up, Captain Petrelli?" I cried, ducking under a cupboard, my hair drenched with icing.

"_Never_, Captain Gray!" He yelled out, getting nailed in the back as he grabbed more icing.

Before we knew it, the icing was done and we both forfeit at the same time, our clothes more of a mess than the entire kitchen.

"Wow," I muttered, looking at him, h is apron torn off and icing filled onto his clothes and face.

"You pretty much covered it," he sighed.

I was filled with icing, my hair and face seeming to _be_ the icing as I wiped it off with my hands.

"That was amazing," he laughed, flicking off chunks of frosting from his pants and shirt filled with red, white, and blue.

"You look . . . patriotic," I chuckled. "It's nice to step out of your usual position, isn't it?"

"Let's clean up the kitchen," he said, smiling.

My world seemed to swirl around this single moment as he beamed. The sun flew up even higher, making him glow as he mopped up the mess, looking at me with questioning eyes.

I cleaned up the walls, a towel in my hand as I wiped down the walls slowly, washing out the red, white and blue colors as I looked behind me. Our eyes met for a second and my heart took a single leap.

"Nathan, I . . ." I stuttered, wiping the icing off of the apron after I took it off.

I ran the apron under the sink, setting the towel off to the side as I scrubbed the blending colors of the icing off, hanging it on a rack to dry. I sighed, swiping a stray strand of hair behind me, tucking it behind my ear as I turned around, his body _very_ near mine—nearly pressing against me.

Backing away as much as I could, I pressed against the sink rims—knowing at I like this proximity no matter how far apart we were.

My hands were crossed behind me, pushing on the sink as I stood up, closer to him, sensing the lust in his touch as a spark ran through me. My head flew up and I stood on my tippie toes and aimed for . . .

The door flew open at that instant, and I slipped away from him as the faces came into view, swiping my hair as it started to mess up.

"Nathan?" a sweet voice called, peeking into the kitchen.

"Ma?" he whispered, rushing to the living room, leaving me breathless as I hung the towel on the rack.

I heart remarks from his mother and another voice as they spoke for a moment, then stepped into the kitchen. His mother was a short woman, just as high as his shoulders were and followed behind Nathan and stopped in the doorway as they saw me.

She had dark brown hair in a bun-type-ponytail, her widened golden-dark green eyes with a tint of black to it, her shawl draped over her shoulder as her skirt was down to her knee, ready to be a businesswoman.

The girl behind her was as tall as Nathan, surely—taller than me—_and_ blonde. She was beautiful in _every_ way, her cropped blonde hair was straightened and layered, draping past her shoulders as her white t-shirt pressed against her perfect figure, her skinny jeans showing off her legs and her red pumps made her figure complete.

Her face was drawn with make-up, her eyes drawn lightly with mascara and eyeliner, her lips plump with gloss. She was gorgeous and stunning—but a bit _too_ gorgeous.

"Vasanti, this is my mother, Angela," Nathan introduced, "and Secretary of Defense, Tracy Strauss."

"Hello," I whispered, nodding to them and smiling wryly. "I'm Vasanti Gray."

They nodded to my blankly, confusion in their eyes as I excused myself, letting them relax.

I slipped into some of Rachel's more casual clothes, a pair of slim capris and a sunny-yellow t-shirt and wiping off the frosting in my hair as I rushed into the bathroom. I ran the water through my hair, combing it so it fell down my shoulders silkily.

"Hey Nathan," I heard Tracy whisper as I stepped out of the bathroom, about to step into the kitchen.

I hid behind the counter between the bathroom and the living room, ready to eavesdrop.

"I'm sorry I couldn't go to Miss Gray's ball," she apologized. "I was . . . _busy_. I hope you had a _pleasant_ time."

I rolled my eyes. _Very pleasant indeed_. But if _you_ were there, Tracy, I would have made _sure_ you danced with him _all_ night so you could have a fairytale dream-come-true.

"I'm proud of you, Nathan," Angela sighed. "Just like your father; if he were only here to see you."

"His father?" Tracy asked.

_His father was a congressman? _

"Yes, a lawyer, both of you worked under the law," Angela boasted. "Alpha dogs, both of you."

"Ah, Ma," Nathan said, making him seem like a momma's boy. "The past is the past."

Slipping into the kitchen, I pulled out the cold cupcakes that were sitting on the counter, taking a nibble out of the plain cupcake.

"Ms. Petrelli, a muffin?" I said.

"No thank you, Miss Gray," Angela returned my smile, sitting down on a chair as Nathan and Tracy went into the other room to chat.

A dark feeling filled my heart as I turned around, cleaning up the counter in a haste, my mind still spinning around Tracy and Nathan's atmosphere.

"Would you like anything?" I asked, turning to Angela. "Perhaps a drink?"

"Some Thai Chai tea, with a hint of ginger and tablespoon of skim milk, please," Angela replied, her eyes closed. "Warm please."

_Umm . . . okay?_ Where was the tea?

I scampered in the cupboards, furiously looking through them as I looked back at her for a reaction. Where'd he keep the tea? Maybe the . . .

"Far left cupboard, the one with a golden handle," Angela pointed to the cupboard without taking a single peek from her position.

"Thanks," I laughed to myself.

I poured the tablespoon of _skim_ milk into a coffee cup and added a hint of sugar, then adding the mix to it.

_Okay, _warm_ water_.

I closed my eyes and my finger tapped the rim of the cup over and over.

_Add 2 and a half cups of water_.

Feeling the warm sensation leaking out from my fingers, I opened my eyes to see a warm cup of—Thai Chai tea with a hint of ginger and a tablespoon of skim milk—wow, that was a mouthful.

Handing the cup to Angela, I put the milk back in the stainless steel refrigerator, treating myself to a cup of freezing cold water—just the way I liked it. I sat down across from Angela, cautious not to make a bad impression.

"Thank you, Miss Gray," Angela whispered. "But . . . may I ask you a question?"

I paused for a second, still staring at the rims of my glass before looking up at her, the eyes waiting for an answer. I nodded.

"What's your business here?" Angela's voice nearly sounded annoyed—I guess it was.

I looked back down at my glass, tapping on the rims, holding down my protests.

_Do not lose control. Do _not_ lose control_.

"I'm Nathan's new . . . advisor-slash-_political_-partner," I said, biting my lip.

I _had_ to add the 'political' part in there or else it would have been awkward in the already weird atmosphere.

"Does your position have a name?" Angela muttered.

"No, it doesn't yet," I whispered. "But I'm sure—"

"But your sure that they will _soon_," she laughed, throwing her hands onto the table. "Foolish, Vasanti. Simply _foolish_ to think they need _you_."

_Don't lose control_. _Do _not.

Anger and frustration ran through me, the ice dancing on my fingers that were hidden under the table, about to snap and take the entire house with it. My face was calm and collected and _somehow,_ I managed to smile as if this didn't bother me.

"What is your ability, Vasanti?" Angela asked, stiffening as my face went blank. "Your brother is a big _Villia_ leader; _surely_ you should have an ability."

"Water," I grumbled.

Her hands trembled for a few seconds and she looked into the other rooms as she muttered to herself—something about 'impossible coming out of her mouth—shaking her head.

"They don't need you, they're _using_ you," Angela muttered, looking away towards the Statue of Liberty. "You'll be the first _Villia_ in the house, and if you lose _control_, the _Solitudes_ win. _Forever._ We get to _dominate_. Think about it."

"You don't know what I am," I growled. "I'm not what you guys think I am."

"Oh, are you?"

I shifted as I felt as if I was being tormented, brushing my bangs to the side as I tried to get my hands something to do—other than murder her.

"Tracy is a pleasing woman," Angela looked up to see my expression—blank. "She and Nathan will have a future in which they will be _together_—inseparable. Nothing will come between their attraction for each other."

I bit my lip and stood up to excuse myself—just as there was a knock on the door.

"I've got it," I volunteered, circling around the corner, then pulling the door open as Rachel and Peter stared at me, not smiling as they knew how Angela was tormenting me.

Rachel's short hair had a band on top and flared out, pixie-like. She was in a pair of jeans and had a low cut red shirt on, exposing a small pendant the size of a thumb—the _Solitude_ crest.

Peter was in a button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, in a pair of jeans and his hair parted and cut in an emo way with his _Solitude_ crest wristband on, the eyes gleaming in the metal.

Rachel gripped to my arm as she led me down the hall, following peter.

"Peter?" Angela cried, popping out of the kitchen to greet him.

"Hey mom," Peter grumbled, smiling. "What are you doing here?"

Angela hugged Peter and he inched away, seeming to be disgusted by his mother's touch. Rachel stood beside me, clutching my arm as her face was streaked with a fake smile.

We sat at the kitchen table, Angela blabbing about how she came here because she had a vision about something big that was going down . . . sometime soon. Angela could dream about the future and she could draw it after she woke up.

I listened to her in great interest, she wasn't paying any attention to me, so I might as well.

"Something's going to happen," Angela whispered. "It's going to change your brother."

_And its go-ing to be you-ou,_ Rachel teased.

I rolled my eyes at Rachel. _Get out of my head_, I growled.

_Fine—they're coming_.

My eyes darted to the kitchen's doorway, Tracy and Nathan walking in, laughing as Tracy's arm looped through Nathan's. Pain and agony shot through me—the memories of Nathan's arm wrapped around my waist as we danced—rushing through my head. I shifted as Nathan sat on the left side of me and Rachel patted my right arm.

_Gross, Tracy Strauss,_ Rachel made throwing up sound. _Major _ew.

Tracy was the only neutral in this house, chuckling and laughing at Nathan's remarks. I sat quietly for what seemed like _forever_, listening to Angela talk about Pennsylvania and how many _Solitudes_ were there with _extraordinary_ powers. Rachel kept a straight face, looking as if she was interested in everything Angela was talking about—how the hell did she do that?

"I hope, Nathan—" Angela scolded, "—you'll find time for Tracy, here. You've grown so far apart after Tracy moved to New Jersey."

This was _directly_ targeted at me, and my expression changed drastically, even though it didn't want to. I contained the pain inside and somehow managed to smile at Nathan and Tracy, their hands linked together on the table.

Nathan stared at me in sorrow and I just kept smiling as if they were the cutest couple I'd ever seen—besides peter and Rachel, Sylar and Ashley—nodding in approval while the pain screamed from inside, nearly ripping me apart.

"You two _do_ need some alone time," Angela chuckled. "Maybe then, you two can . . . _catch up_."

_Oh, god—_pervert! My eyes were on the verge to roll, but I blinked, pushing away the thoughts.

"Please—_excuse_ me," I growled, standing up.

Rachel grabbed my arm, her eyes telling me to _sit down_. Everyone's eyes were on me, and just in time—my phone rang out; the song _Supermassive Black Hole_-By Muse playing.

I sighed in relief, pulling it out of my pocket.

"I've got to answer my _cell_," I muttered. "_Please_. Excuse me."

I went to the room that I'd slept in yesterday—the guest room—the clothes sprawled out on the floor; I had tore through the closet to look for something _casual_ to wear.

"Hello?" I whispered into the phone.

"Vasanti? What the hell? Where are you?" Sylar screamed.

I backed away, trying to find an excuse, mixed emotion swirled from inside, making me speechless.

"You're at Nathan's house, aren't you?" Sylar cried. "I'm going to strangle the life—"

"Sylar," I grumbled. "No, don't, they didn't—"

"He changed you . . . didn't he?" Sylar muttered. "What did they do to you? What the—"

"Please Sylar," I bit my lip.

"Tell him—I'm going to—"

"Sylar!" I cried. "_Please_!"

"Vasanti," Rachel muttered, walking through the door. "What's wrong?"

"It's Rachel, isn't it?" Sylar screamed. "Let me _talk to her_!"

I handed the phone to her in fear, my hand trembling as she spoke into the speaker confidentially.

"Sylar!" She cried in a sweet, high voice. "It's nice to hear your voice after so long."

The chatter through the phone made Rachel's smile grow bigger and bigger, her eyes lighting up at all the swear words and threats that he threw to her.

"Oh, _really_? Are you . . . _sure_ about that?" Rachel laughed. "Oh, I'm sorry."

I sat down on the bed, helpless as Rachel laughed, smiling and eyebrows raised.

"You would never," Rachel chuckled.

Her voice was suddenly streaked with and edge of fear, her body seeming to get stiff as he told her a threat that really got to her. I stood up to comfort her—to grab the phone—and she shook her head at me.

_Please, Rachel, _don't.

"I'm sure we can handle that," Rachel's lips curved into a smirk.

_Ah, no, _hell no_._

"You're _on_."

I snatched the phone from her, nearly screaming into the phone as I lectured him.

"No, Sylar! What the hell are you doing?" I cried.

"We're having a little before-we-kill rumble," Sylar laughed. "Are you game?"

"No Sylar! _No!_" I shrieked.

"We're meeting up on the outskirts," Sylar chuckled.

My heart sank. _No . . ._ everyone would get killed by Sylar—for sure. Slaughtered like animals.

"No, Sylar, you _listen to me_!" I screamed, stepping out of the room, flying past the kitchen filled with astonished people staring at me.

He laughed, muttering to himself before hanging up. I huffed to myself, slipping on my flats. I was panicking. They were in trouble. They could get _killed_!

"No, we won't," Rachel said, setting a hand on my shoulder, an edge of a lie in her voice.

She knew about Sylar's potential.

I shook it off, stepping out of the door as all the people followed behind me, asking questions as I shoved my phone into my pocket. I wanted them to _stay away_.

"We're coming with you," Peter muttered, grabbing my arm, his grip firm and demanding.

"_No_!"

They all stared at me; only Tracy was the one who looked confused but collected. They tilted their heads, questions in their eyes as they pierced through my mind. A ringing sounded in my ears as they started to sound reasonable.

"_God, Rachel_! You don't have to do that!" I cried. "Let's go."

Peter, Nathan and Rachel stepped out, nodding to Tracy and Angela as they left.

"No, Nathan, Peter," Angela cried, standing up and stopping them. "You don't need to go."

_Thanks for trying to save our lives too_, Rachel rolled her eyes.

"You'll surely get killed, especially if you're going with _her_," Angela protested. "Stay here."

"Ma, we'll be fine," Nathan muttered. "I trust her."

_I trust her._ Nice way to get me on my feet and let you go with me.

"She could help us," Peter said, looking at me—yep he read my mind.

"She could _kill you_," Angela huffed. "Why trust her when you can trust your mother? She's an imposter—_I_ don't trust her."

My mouth flew open and I nearly let a scoff escape. How could she say such a thing like that? I nearly had tears in my eyes, but I turned around and walked away, ready to leave.

"You coming?" I asked everyone as I was about to leave.

"Ma, don't worry," Nathan sighed, kissing her on the forehead and slipping into his jacket, buttoning it as we all appeared in the backyard.

"Wait a second," I ordered. "We need a plan."

"Okay . . .?"

"If I tell you to run—_run_," –I glared at Nathan— "especially _you_. Do. As. I. Say. Unless you're thinking of committing suicide."

"Okay, here's the plan," Rachel said as we jumped into the forests. "Pete, take Nathan's power. Nathan, you and Vasanti go ahead to the outskirts of County QK, stay close enough so you can hear him, but far enough that he can't hear you."

"We'll be farther away, searching for others that might be coming—to make this into a rumble," Peter whispered. "We've got to split up, but Rachel will stay in contact."

"Okay," Nathan nodded, taking my arm and picking me up in his arms, flying up, the sweet wind brushing across my face.

My hand wrapped around his neck, seeming to barely touch him and my head rested on his chest, sighing. If we were _this_ close to each other in the _real_ world, we'd have more conversations and small talk, but I guessed that we weren't close. He was close to Tracy, and I knew that.

My own truth slammed against me, pounding against my chest, the ache of wanting that feeling of protection hurt as I looked up at him. I'd always want what I couldn't have.

The truth sometimes reached too far and fell off the edge. I couldn't hold onto him tight enough while I had him . . . which was . . . one night—no, it was longer than that. It had been the first time we'd met—it had all started there—where we could have been more.

And now, he was probably going to hook up with Tracy.

_My lord_, I was so stupid for fantasizing that I'd have a chance with Nathan. I guess it was fun while it lasted.

"Vasanti?" Nathan muttered, looking down on me.

The cotton feeling brushed across my cheek and my hand brushed against the clouds as he started to slow down in suspicion. I didn't want to answer him, I just wanted to be quiet until we got to Sylar. If he was going to try and talk to me about Tracy, I'd ignore him.

"I'm sorry about the short notice of my mother," Nathan whispered. "She's just been out of her mind since my father died and—are you listening?"

I suddenly realized that I was staring off into the distance, not paying attention as I nearly stared directly at the sun diagonally across from us—about 2:00 P.M. at the moment.

"Hmm?" I mumbled.

I remembered Angela's words that penetrated through my soul, making me feel even more useless.

_They're just _using _you_.

_You're foolish to even think they _need _you._

_We get to dominate._

_Solitudes win. _

_They're inseparable._

"Vasanti?" Nathan said my name so clearly, as if he was mine and I was his.

I bit my lip, trying to contain my tears from pouring.

Nothing_ will come between their attraction for each other._

"Are you . . . crying?" Nathan asked as he looked down to me, tears at the corners of my eyes. "Oh, no Vasanti—she got to you, didn't she?"

I looked up, a single timely tear streaming onto his jacket as I held him closer, about to explode.

"It was ma, wasn't it?" Nathan cried. "What'd she say to you?"

Shaking my head, I didn't answer as I looked below, the buildings flying by as he neared the golden-brown-cream color of the dry land of the outskirts.

"Down there please, Senator Petrelli," I whispered his formal name.

Our elevation lowered, his feet dangling off the ground and finally dropping in the forest. I tore from his arms and looked at him as I was about to leave, my head turning to face him.

"Stay in ear range," I muttered, rushing out in front of the woods and leaving him behind as he hid in the trees.

Out in the open, stood Sylar protectively as if waiting for an ambush. He had an unbuttoned t-shirt on, his hands in the pockets of his jeans, staring at me like he wanted to kill.

The wind blew gently, my hair ruffling and tangling in the air, swaying to the side as I looked up at him.

"Vasanti," Sylar growled, ten yards away from me. "_Where are they_?"

Ashley stepped forward from behind him, holding his hand, the engagement ring gleaming for a last time before the clouds gathered, consuming the sun. I gulped and closed my eyes for a split second, soaking it all in.

I was here to stop Sylar from murdering the Petrelli family. _Okay_. _That_ was going to be hard.

_Faith, Vasanti_. _Hope. You _can_ do this_.

I took a deep breath, looking up at the two. So perfect for each other. It was like an image that couldn't be broken or ripped.

"Just tell him, Vasanti," Ashley muttered, stepping forward.

"No," I cried, backing up.

My breathing was jagged and they would soon find out that I was scared—nervous. He stared into my eyes smirking.

"You killed someone," he shook his head. "Your blood has changed color after your first kill."

"He was a _Solitude_," I muttered.

"Ah, what a waste of _power_."

Oh, my. He was really going crazy.

"I _want_ them," Sylar demanded. "I want their power."

His eyes immediately were glowing a red color, the usual color of his eyes when he longed for something—specifically—a power. My hands and lips trembled and I whimpered, taking a step back—was he going to take my power? The longing in his eyes told me that he was going to take _someone's _power. At least it wasn't Rachel, or Peter or . . . Nathan.

An unseen force suddenly grabbed me by the throat, picking me off of the ground and hovering above the grass blades. I looked at Sylar with frightened eyes, his hand squeezing as the unseen force did the same thing, sucking the air out of me. I coughed and sputtered, my legs kicking in the thin air, fighting for my life.

"Tell me where they are!" Sylar screamed, wind blasting from around him, his eyes glowing a deep, blood red.

"No!" I managed to sputter, my voice only a rasp. "Never!"

"Sylar, darling, don't you think . . . she's had enough?" Ashley whispered, farther away from Sylar as he stepped forward. "You know, you can just—"

"_No_!" he screamed. "_She's_ going to tell me!"

I wheezed, my legs aching from so much kicking, and my muscles started to relax, never going to pick up.

_No, I was _not_ giving up_. _Not when it had just started_.

"No, I'm not going to tell you," I cried. "You can never—"

I coughed as my airway was _fully_ blocked, a single drop of oxygen seeping in ever few breaths.

"They changed you! What have they done?" Sylar shrieked. "Who are you?"

Sylar's head spun, his force flying off of my throat and pinning me on the ground. I coughed, taking in deep breaths constantly, packing in my air flow.

"You're a shape-shifter!" Sylar cried. "I'm taking your power."

"Sylar, no!" I muttered. "Please—it's _me_!"

"I'm sorry—whoever you are," Sylar smirked. "I want your power, but I promise I'll put it to good use."

"Sylar, _please_!" I whimpered.

He couldn't do this—he just couldn't! He had the urge to take other's powers, _but_ mine. Why now? He walked to my side, smirking as he hovered over me and gripped my shoulders, slamming me on the ground a few times as I squirmed, closing his eyes as he started to absorb.

"Vasanti, what have they done to you?" Sylar whispered, his face lifted up as he seemed to look off into the distance—with his eyes closed. "Where are you?"

"Sylar! I'm right _here_!" I screamed, thrashing against him. "I'm your _Icebeam_!"

He stopped, opening his eyes and staring into mine wildly. He blinked a few times and turned to look at Ashley for an answer.

"It could be her . . ." Ashley sighed.

"_NO!_ It can't be!" Sylar's eyes narrowed. "She would _never_ betray me! _NEVER_!"

He pressed his hands against my shoulder, pinning me down as he whispered in my ear.

"You're going to _pay_ for what you've done."

"No-no-no. _NO!_" I shrieked in fear, _pure_ fear now. "Sylar! _Sylar! SYLAR!_"

I could feel the life getting drained out of me; being sucked out immediately. Everything was getting lighter, like the feeling you get when you stood up to quickly, but this was worse, it wasn't going away, and I was about to faint. But Sylar could only get my power If he had drained my _entire _system—or else he'd just have to cut open my head—which was the way he usually did it

And I wished more than _anything_ that he'd just cut open my head at this instant. _Everything_ hurt and I couldn't live without my power at all if he took it. I loved my ability and I could do so much with it—it was like another half of me.

"Sylar, it's me . . . please . . ." I stuttered, coughing as tears rolled down my cheeks. "Don't . . . do this . . . to . . . me . . ."

No—no, _no_! It couldn't be! I didn't want it to be gone! I loved my power, I loved probably more than Nathan and _that_ had to be major. I wanted my power—I loved my power—I needed my power . . .

His weight was suddenly pushed off of me as he was knocked down and I crawled away, bracing myself on my hands as I gasped for my life.

I looked over to Sylar, and he was tumbling around with Nathan. _OhMyGod_. I winced at the sound of punching, but managed to grab a hold of Nathan, Pulling him back.

"Ah, there you are . . . my friend," Sylar smirked. "Did Vasanti tell you before you killed her—that I threatened you? Oh, yes—I'm supposed to _strangle_ you."

"Cut the crap, Sylar," Nathan growled, stepping forward.

"Nathan, no," I whispered.

I stared at Sylar in agony, my eyes begging for him to understand. Sylar pushed Ashley aside, stepping forward and smiling. My heart sank and I shook my head as I read his eerie smile. _He was going to kill Nathan. _

"No, Sylar," I begged. "You don't need it."

"But I _want_ it," Sylar cried, grabbing Nathan by the throat with his invisible force, flying me him into the air.

Nathan hovered above the ground, trying not to kick as his stab wound was still weak of movement from his legs. My mind raced, trying to find something useful to do as Nathan—and everyone else's life was at stake. A hand tapped me on the shoulder and I gasped.

"Sylar, please stop!" I screamed, stepping in front of Nathan, which didn't help. "Don't."

Rachel nodded to me, trying to get into Sylar's head, concentrating with Peter by her side.

"You can't get to me," Sylar chuckled. "You can only read me."

He flicked his wrist and Rachel—along with Peter—flew back, lying on the ground.

"Rachel!" I cried.

"_Nathan_!" Peter yelled, rushing towards Nathan, but Sylar flung him back so he stayed pinned on the ground.

"Peter," Nathan whispered, a dark red rash starting to form around his neck. "Go . . . Vasanti—take everyone with you."

I shook my head, my body seeming to shake. How could Sylar do this? I really _did _want to save Nathan without hurting Sylar, but . . . how would I . . .?

"Vasanti, you _must_ . . ." Nathan ordered. "Save . . . Pete . . ."

"Nathan!" Peter cried, his voice loud and begging. "I can't leave you."

Rachel lay on the ground, a red splotch on her cheek as her eyes were closed, unconscious as she lay limp.

Nathan had a future. He was going to be . . . president. Our future needed him. Sylar's hands flew up, a single finger ready to cut across Nathan's head to slice his scull open and expose his delicate brain and skin.

"Stop, Sylar . . . stop," I muttered, stepping towards him. "Don't make me do this . . ."

"Stay out of this!" Sylar cried, his hand starting to move.

Nathan yelled out as his skin started to beak, blood trickling down the side of his face, his cry seeming to echo over and over, mocking me.

"Vasanti!" Peter cried out, shaking Rachel's shoulder.

My head turned slightly around to look at himas I stood still, gaping at the gruesome sight.

OhMyGod, please don't die, Nathan. _Please_. _I'm so sorry for all of this_.

"Then . . . you leave me no choice . . . Sylar," I gulped as I wriggled my weak and scraped hands.

The ice crackled and glowed, flashing for a bit until I knew I was regenerated. I pulled my hands back and at the same time, aimed for Sylar. I closed my eyes, waiting for the ice to be finished consuming Sylar as the crackling snapped and nearly stopped.

Nathan fell to the ground beside me, gasping, and his head bleeding badly as it nearly cut through.

"Nathan, are you okay?" I cried, picking him up to his feet.

"Nathan!" Peter yelled out, rushing to his side with Rachel behind him, walking unsteadily.

Nathan hugged Peter, patting him on the back as Peter's eyes were rimmed with _almost_ tears. They were so good to each other—it was so weird . . . like a perfect family almost.

There was a shattering sound behind me and I finally knew that Sylar was frozen and thawing already. Nathan shook his head as he turned around, his eyes fixed behind me.

Slowly, my head turned around, waiting for Sylar to do something horrid and gory to me. But as I turned around, it was almost the exact same opposite. My heart sank and my eyes widened as I backed up. Sylar's head snapped up, pure hatred in his eyes aimed toward me as he was on his knees.

When I had finally backed up enough, my ice covered hands flew up as a bloodcurdling shriek filled the air; a scream that could make someone deaf.

~End of Chapter Seven~

**_Pretty please review!_** or else i won't post up the next chapter!(cause it's really good and funny)!

hope you liked it--it was kind of long--GUESS WHO DIED?? review, review, review!!


	8. First

~Our Notion~

*First*

And I screamed. I screamed because Sylar wasn't the one who was frozen. The person on the ground was all ice, and had shattered when my force had hit her. The ice now had a dark blue-purple tint to it.

_Holy mother of God—_blood.

I had hit . . . Ashley.

As my scream died down, Sylar glared at me.

"You _meant_ to kill her," Sylar growled. "You wanted her out of _my life_."

"No, Sylar!" I cried, sobbing as nausea kicked in. "She's my sister!"

Rachel stood behind me, limping as she patted my shoulder, Peter and Nathan stood next to me, shaking their heads as I was in _hysterics_.

Sylar stood up, his eyes narrowing as tears ran down his cheek with anger.

"You. Killed. Her."

"Not on purpose . . . I really . . ." I stuttered on my words as my eyes wandered to Ashley's face, eyes closed and about to scream, her ring on the ground beside her.

"She's telling the truth, Sylar," Rachel said, staring at him.

My heart sank as I kept looking at Ashley, my eyes fixated on her, never moving. I killed her. _Me._ How?

My aim was _perfect_ and Sylar knew it. So he'd think I purposely kill her for my own gain. I looked at Rachel .

_Get him while he's still weak_. I repeated.

"Sylar, she stepped in front of you," Rachel whispered. "Ashley sacrificed herself, not knowing about your bond."

"No," Sylar gasped.

"You know she did," Rachel repeated. "Stop denying the truth."

"No!" Sylar cried. "Vasanti _killed_ Ashley! Vasanti did! You killed mother, now Ashley!"

I wiped away the overflowing tears, the betrayal stabbing me in the back as he talked about mom. I had killed too many. Who knows what I could do to my own friends—including the one I loved? I looked around at them, my eyes red and more tears about to come.

"Who knows about what you could do to them?" Sylar shouted, pointing to me in accusation as the blue consumed my arm in anger and fright.

Rachel and Peter backed up, but Nathan stared at me, his eyes scared as he shook his head and backed away. His golden-hazel eyes were now black and dark with fear as they widened, darting away as I tried to reach a hand towards him.

No, not _Nathan._ How could he think I was dangerous after I . . . saved him? Sylar had turned Nathan against me.

"I didn't mean to!" I screamed. "She was my _sister_ Sylar! Why would I? You weren't the only one who cared about her!"

I cried out and turned around, staring into the face of Nathan. He looked at me like I was a monster, a murderer. And it hurt even more because I thought he understood me. The inside of my palm slammed against Nathan's cheek with so much force, he was thrown back, the side of his cheek throbbing.

"I can't believe you," I huffed. "I thought I could trust _you_."

I stomped off, wiping away the tears that couldn't stop pouring as I disappeared into the woods.

"Vasanti!" Nathan yelled after me, followed by Rachel and Peter.

While in the woods, I looked past Nathan and I saw Sylar, kneeling near Ashley, his head hung low as he cradled her remains in his arms, slipping the ring into his pocket. I'd never seen Sylar cry, and now, I never wanted to see it again, it hurt like _hell_ to watch someone so _strong_, someone so . . . _confident_—cry because of me.

"Find her, Rachel!" Nathan ordered, rushing towards the woods where I disappeared to.

I quickened my pace, adrenaline rushing through me as I wanted to disappear, to get out of people's lives and try to find the meaning of my life—even if it meant using my powers to murder—or for evil.

My mind flashed back to Nathan's face before I left, the pain overpowering my adrenaline as I slowed down,, pain streaked along my face. I thought we understood each other. He looked at me like I was . . . a freak show. I could never hurt him. Not _Nathan_ . . . never.

But what if I could?

I flipped over my hand so I could see my veins on my wrist. Even in the large, darkened forests, I could see the neon blue color of my veins as I sat down, my back braced against a tree, hidden by bushes of flowers as they seemed to surround me—comfort me. The veins throbbed as my fingers played with the ice, the glowing dimming, then bright as my arms was starting to turn blue out of anger.

But I _could_ hurt someone. _Nathan_. If I lost control, I could massacre with a single touch.

My head snapped up as the three voices were heard from behind, as quiet as ever, but Peter and Nathan's coordinating skills weren't helping.

Suddenly, Nathan leapt from the bushes and scooped me into his arms, cradling me like he'd always had when we were flying. Rachel was right behind us as Nathan flew into the sky, Peter zooming to catch up as we blasted through the sky.

I pounded on Nathan's shoulder, my legs thrashing as the gray clouds passed us—or we passed them.

"Nathan, let me go!" I cried

"Rachel," Peter said gruffly as he dodged my kick. "Go for it."

"What are you . . .? I started, but Rachel's voice echoed through my head. "You can't . . . do . . . this . . ."

I got weaker as the voice got stronger and louder, my muscles relaxing in Nathan's arms. I took deep breaths of Nathan's clothes, not knowing why, my eyes drooping. But before they could close, I caught a glimpse of blood still trickling down the side of Nathan's right forehead where his hair was covering it, and he seemed to be wincing.

My head immediately started burning, making me wince as my eyes closed.

"Nathan," I whispered. "You're . . . bleeding . . ."

_Go to sleep, Vasanti. Go to sleep._

Yes. I needed sleep.

My head bobbed and finally went limp as I blacked out, my arms falling to my sides.

_I'll wake you up when we get home_.

"Just go to sleep, Vasanti," Nathan said into my ear. "Go to sleep."

***

"Ow. Ow. _OW_!" I screamed as they dragged me up the stairs. "My head is fucking killing me!'

"Will you stop making her screaming out swear words at least 3 times in every single sentence?" Nathan muttered, annoyance in his voice. "It's _really_ not her."

"Yeah, Rachel, get me to shut the fuck up," I said. "It's fucking annoying to Mr. I-fucking-know-my-fucking-cut-doesn't-fucking-hurt here."

Everything I looked at had a blurring edge to it, making my head spin and every time I took a step up the patio of the backyard balcony, my head ached and felt like a hammer was pounding on it from inside.

My arm wrapped around Rachel's shoulder, needing support as I stumbled into the house.

"This is so much fun!" Rachel clapped her hands together. "I'm sorry it hurts, Vasanti—it's just that you have the Gray blood in you, so every time I try mind control on you, it has to be extra effort and a little push in the head."

"That's fucking-sure-as-hell great," I sighed. "I wonder how it would fucking work on a fucking random dude that you fucking pick of the fucking street then."

"_Rachel_," Nathan growled.

"She's fuckin' on it," I snapped. "You don't have to fucking push her so fucking far, Mr. _Alpha-Dog_—she fucking knows, you know. But I bet you do have to push that fucking prostitute for her to even fucking talk to you."

Everyone was still and didn't move as they all looked at me, Rachel and Peter's eyes seeming to dance as they threw their heads back and laughed out loud, their voices in perfect accord.

"Oh, shit," I muttered. "Rachel, you bitch, you are so fucking dead after this. Damn, bastard! Why'd you have to throw in 'bitch' and 'bastard' in here too? I don't want to fucking hurt your feelings."

"Hey, I'm only making you speak your thoughts—and add swear words in them," Rachel teased.

"She really thinks that of Tracy?" Peter chuckled.

"Yeah, I fucking think that the prostitute is highly more bitchy and beautiful than I am—but who fucking cares? The bitch wants a piece of the bastard. The bastard wants a piece of me."

I laughed out loud and nobody joined in and I rolled my eyes.

"You guys are so fucking _serious_!" I cried. "Does it fucking run in the gay-ass family or something?"

My head cried out and my head nearly fell over if it weren't for Rachel picking me up.

"Rachel, hurry the fuck up and get this shit out of my head," I cried. "I bet this is fucking worse than having a fucking child."

"Fine," Rachel muttered after stepping into the house. "There."

Immediately, my head cleared up, my senses finally slamming into me. I took a deep breath, the sweet-cloudy smell still lingering on my clothes as they set me on the couch, my back bracing against the memory foam.

"Hallelujah, I thought that I was going to be your swear-slave forever," I muttered. "_Rachel_, you're lucky to be alive."

"It's not luck," Rachel beamed at me before slipping into the kitchen to look after Peter and Nathan. "You just don't want to kill me yet."

Tracy and Angela ran straight past me as if I was invisible and straight into the kitchen, crying out for some apparent reason. There was a rush of talking and whispering in the kitchen as I sat miserably on the couch.

I finally told myself that I had to move or else I'd be paralyzed in this position forever.

"Hey," I whispered as I stepped into the kitchen, looking out the window as the sun was setting, glinting off of Lady Liberty and giving it a bronze color to its torch, making the fire seem more realistic as it sat in her hand.

I think I had intruded something important and secret as I turned around to see everyone staring at me with confused faces. When their eyes met mine, they immediately turned around, speaking to each other with their voices low.

Rachel was helping Peter with a gash he had on his wrist, tracing up to his elbow when he had flew backwards a few times. Angela and Tracy were sitting beside Nathan, lifting up his hair and dabbing alcohol on his wound.

I gasped as his gash was larger than I thought; it was about two inches, give or take a few centimeters. Nathan's eyes caught mine for a second and he nodded to me, wincing as Angela pressed against his wound harder to make him look away from me. At least their wounds were visible—because mine weren't and I felt as if I was still being choked by Sylar, my windpipe feeling closed as I took a breath, the skin of my throat red a bruised.

My back was aching and I could swear it was bruised and had Sylar's marks on my shoulders. I winced silently to myself, lifting my shoulders up, the pain screaming throughout my body.

"There's some warm water in the pitcher," Rachel nodded towards the table. "Help yourself."

I smiled—not really needing the water, but taking it anyways because I didn't want to dip my finger into a cup and shatter it—pouring the water into a cup and gulping it down, the warm sensation seeming to open my airway a little more.

"You never stood a chance between Sylar," Angela scolded, standing up and pushing Peter's shoulder as she kissed his cheek. "I could have lost you!'

"But you didn't, ma," Nathan muttered. "I'd never let _anything_ happen to him; you know that."

"Nathan, you'd die for Peter," Tracy scoffed. "Don't let your feelings get in the way of your duty."

I internally laughed—and what duty was that—screwing you?

"Vasanti, that's enough," Peter rolled his eyes. "Nathan wouldn't approve."

_Of course he would_.

"What's she saying?" Tracy cried, eyeing me as if I was a monster. "Is she talking about me?"

"No," Rachel laughed, trying to cover for me. "She's talking about how Nathan would never die in the line of duty the way he fights."

"Yes, of course," Angela boasted. "Nathan . . . should—will never die."

"Yes, because he's immortal, like I am!" Peter smiled.

I collected my self by talking a last gulp of my water, standing up to wash it in the sink as my back was turned to them. Rachel gasped out loud and my eyebrows rose in confusion as I dried the cup and put it in a cupboard.

I blinked a few times, as my vision blurred, my shoulders and back seeming to go through a burning sensation as I tried to stable myself into a chair. Nathan grabbed my shoulders and set me on a chair as everyone surrounded me. Rachel patted my shoulder and turned me around.

"Sorry Vasanti," she smirked at me. "I had to do that."

"Great," I cried out. "For the _last_ time! _No_!"

The headache went away as she snapped out of my head, rummaging through the refrigerator as I sat down, my back burning. I looked up at Nathan, who was talking to Angela, keeping their voices low as they argued with Peter.

Tracy sat next to them, listening in quietly, her legs crossed and brushing back her hair as Nathan looked at her. I bit my lip as Tracy smirked at me after Nathan looked away, her eyes taunting me.

_Bitch._

Now that was _for real_—my own thoughts.

"Okay, Vasanti," Rachel said, wrapping a lemon into a small towel. "This might sting a little."

She lifted up the sleeves of my shirt and grimaced. Patting down the lemon juice onto my shoulder stung as the open cuts were exposed to the citric acid, making me jump. But as I jumped in pain, nobody noticed—especially Nathan. The others went into the living room and talked while I sat alone in the kitchen as Rachel cleared my scrapes.

I sat there, thinking about what they were talking about, my suspicion getting the best of me as I thought about Nathan. Why did I save him? I had _killed_ Ashley while trying to protect Nathan. Did he _really_ mean that much to me? How could I still love him if he didn't love me back?

"Vasanti, you just might want to soak in a tub for a little bit," Rachel suggested, throwing the bloody mess into the garbage.

"Yeah, I'll try that later on," I said, washing my hands and stepping into the living room, Rachel trailing behind.

Everyone was gathered around a coffee table that they'd pulled up. I looked at Rachel and she shrugged her shoulders, rushing to gather around. I leaned against the wall, my foot tapping impatiently as Angela was drawing with a paint set on a piece of a canvas.

_Oh, yay! Painting time for the old_!

"Wait, is that _Nathan_?" Tracy asked, looking at Peter.

"It has to be, it's the scar he has," Peter answered.

Rachel looked up to me and caught my eyes, gesturing for me to come over as I started to get curious. I shrugged and added my shadow to the already darkened circle.

"What is it?" I whispered to Rachel.

"Angela draws and dreams of the future," Rachel explained. "She's seeing something and it's Nathan's future."

I looked up to see Angela, her eyes were a gray-white color as she drew, her face blank as her strokes streaked across the canvas like a professional

The picture she was drawing, I couldn't see because of the shadows that were cast upon the canvas, the streaks of white were the only thing I saw.

Eventually, after a few minutes of an awkward silence, Angela slammed her brush down, gasping as she snapped out of her 'world; and her eyes were their original color again.

Nathan snapped his fingers as Angela held up the picture, taking deep breaths and a few dim lights turned on.

I took a single looked at the picture and my eyes strayed away immediately, the pain stabbing me everywhere with betrayal. If Rachel was correct about Anglela's ability to paint the future—and that it couldn't change—and _this_ was true, my life would be _over_.

Why did she have to paint this now? The image was so . . . unreal . . . but so descriptive beyond descriptions.

The image had a small framed portrait of a weeping willow—the exact one he had by his front door, but the portrait was unusually tilted as if someone had bumped it and it was about to fall. But what made me turn away was the reality of movement of the picture that she'd painted—the two people _pressed_ together.

The one that was pinned on the wall had an unbuttoned long-sleeved shirt with rolled up sleeves and had his head tilted up to reveal an arrow-like scar—Nathan. The other person who's head was laying on his shoulder, her lips pressed against his neck as you could only see part of her face and her shoulder, her blouse falling off of her shoulders and seeming to be unbuttoned also, with only her lips and shoulders visible throughout the entire picture.

You would think that it was a stranger, but the only thing that distinguished her from the others was her hand that draped onto Nathan's shoulder—and the hand on his shoulder had blue veins and a spark of neon blue that sprung from finger to finger.

"It's Tracy," Angela gasped. "Tracy has the power of . . . the . . . sky . . . the blue tint is hers."

Tracy protested, but Angela nodded to Tracy and she smiled as everyone around me tensed—especially Rachel. If Tracy was a _Neutral_, how could she have a power? Was she already a _Solitude_?

"It could be Vasanti," Peter faked a smile.

"Peter!" Angela cried, slapping him in the shoulder.

"I'm just saying," Peter argued, dodging another hit from Angela.

"Yes, or course," I muttered. "It couldn't be me . . . that wouldn't . . . be right for our working positions."

Only someone like Tracy would have pink, plump lips with an expensive clear lips gloss with small crystals inside and eyelashes long enough to touch her own eyelids.

My phone rang in my pocket as I stared at Rachel for an answer. I pulled it out and looked at the ID, suddenly looking out the window as the rainy streets as I stepped into the kitchen, securing myself by turning off the lights and sitting down in a chair with the soft rain patting on the window behind me.

"Liz?"

"No, Vasanti, its Sarah," she muttered. "Liam just called Liz."

"OMG, what happened?" I whispered, on the edge of my seat.

"He wants to elope," Sarah cried. "_Seriously_."

"Are they _insane_?" I yelled, my hands slamming on the table. "They'd be tracked down!"

"They decided to wait . . . because . . . because . . ." Sarah trailed off, waiting for me to fill in.

News sure traveled fast about Sylar _and_ deaths.

"I killed Ashley," I growled. "I didn't mean to!"

"We know," Sarah whispered. "You were _so_ excited about Ashley, it wouldn't make any sense."

"She sacrificed herself," I sighed. "But thanks, you two are probably the _only_ people who understand me."

"But Sylar is going _emo_ here," Sarah pleaded. "You need to go to him."

"Go to him?" I cried out loud. "Are you _crazy_? He'd go on a psychopathic killing spree!"

"But Vasanti, think about it," Sarah pleaded "you've lost your sister. Do you want to lose your brother too?"

"I can't, Sarah," I confessed. "I'm at Nathan's and I—"

"Oh, my _god_," Sarah cut in, seeming to be jumping up. "You're _totally_ crushing on your advisor?"

"I know, but—"

"My lord, Vasanti!" Sarah cried. "He's a _Solitude_! The _exact_ same thing that happened to Liz and can happen to you!"

"That's the _least_ of my problems," I mumbled. "I'm not a _Villia_ until I put the crest on, that's not the problem—he's already had a GF for a while . . . and his mom . . . well let's just say . . . she's _threatening_ me."

"You are _really_ messed when it comes to your love life," Sarah laughed. "My advice is—do anything you can to get him to look at you."

She snapped the phone shut and I sulked in my seat, setting my phone onto the table and throwing my head into my hands as I sighed, letting the exasperation out of my body.

"I love watching your reactions," Rachel laughed, unfolding her hands and stepping out of her hidden posture in the doorway. "Your hunches are _very_ intriguing."

"Please, leave my thoughts and I _alone_," I pleaded, looking up. "I've got enough on my shoulders—to last a lifetime."

"Mom wanted me to give you this," Peter said, slamming a necklace on the table, making me jump. "She 'thanks you' for saving us."

I was caught by surprise as they both sat next to me, handing me the necklace. Also because _Angela_ had praised me after nearly killing me. I looked at the pendant, the chain smooth on my skin as the pendant was large enough to fit in my palm. I gasped when the picture finally came clear and glowed in the darkness, the eyes following your every gaze. The _Solitude_ crest.

"What?" I cried. "Why me?"

"No _Villia_ would stand up to Sylar under _any _circumstances," Peter smiled as he hugged Rachel, leaning in to his chest.

_Besides love_, I thought to myself.

I rotated the crest in my palm as the light from Lady Liberty reflected off of it. This was the first time I ever got to _hold_ a _Solitude_ crest and the indentations on the crest were amazingly smooth without any missing details. My finger traced around the entire thing, the tops of the mountains sharp and deadly, the outer oval designs swirling with beauty under and over to the other side.

"Thanks for coming, ma," Nathan said in the background as he spoke to Tracy silently.

"Rachel, Peter," I warned. "No taking over my mind tonight, I'm worn out."

"Fine," Peter smirked. "We'll be _off_ then."

"By the way," Rachel whispered. "My clothes look good on you."

"Thanks?" I muttered, unsure.

Peter pressed his lips against Rachel's and they set off to 'be off' as they sat on the couch, flipping though the channels as they spoke to each other through their minds.

I stood up, still clutching onto the pendant as I passed the front door where Nathan was speaking to Tracy. She smirked at me as she said goodbye, holding his hand and kissing him on the lips, leaning closer to him, her eyes dancing in joy and pleasure at me.

_Whore_.

I rolled my eyes and pushed the door open, stepping into the door and throwing the closet open, pulling out another shirt to war as my current shirt was soaked with lemon juice and blood. I slipped into a midnight blue t-shirt with a long sleeved shirt under, and skinny jeans; stretching my fingers as I crossed my arms over my chest, running a hand through my hair and staring at the metal of the pendant. I couldn't accept this . . . I had a _Villia_ crest that I was supposed to be wearing at this moment. But maybe I could wear _both_ of them, meaning I was offered _both_ and accepted neither. That meant I'd be a _Neutral_ . . . with a power, meaning I needed a _Neutral_ crest, which I'd never seen before.

But . . . I had killed Ashley, I'd be a traitor to both _Neutrals_ and _Villias_, which meant I only belonged with the _Solitudes_.

_No_.

I had another choice. I could—

"Traumatized by my mother's change of heart?" Nathan chimed in.

I jumped and my head twisted around, the pendant's chain uncoiling and revealing itself, hanging from my finger. I was finally at ease as I saw his face, so perfect as the darkness seemed to suit him, making it dangerous and protected. My eyes lingered to his lips and I flipped around immediately, still seeing a trace of glitter on his lips.

_Bastard_.

"Somehow, she's proud of _you_," Nathan said, stepping in front of me so I _had_ to face him. "It took her a while to trust Tracy."

"Yeah," I muttered.

_It took her a _long_ time._

I groaned, rushing out the door for no apparent reason, just wanting to be alone for a bit without having someone watch over me. Even in my head, I felt as if I didn't have any privacy without someone barging into my thoughts and having a killer headache.

"Ah, Vasanti," Peter nodded and smiled to me and Nathan. "That willow picture is right here if you'd like to be my guest."

I laughed, a fake laugh of course. That was innapropriate, but it was nice that _someone_ was taking my side . . . not that I'd like to be the person in the picture or anything . . . okay . . . I admit it . . . I would like to be the person in the picture.

"Peter! You pervert!" Rachel called from the living room, turning off the TV.

"Is something wrong with you two?" Peter asked, tilting his head to examine us.

"No, nothing at all," I muttered, trying to sound convincing. "You just . . . have a really nice family, Nathan."

"Yeah, I'm sure," Peter rolled his eyes. "But Nathan's not part of this family if he hangs out with Tracy."

Nathan crossed his arms and glared at Peter with fierce eyes as Peter laughed, throwing his head back.

"No, it's not that . . . it's just that," I stuttered. "I wished that I could see my mom and dad at times too; and seeing others with their family members just . . . gets me where it's vulnerable."

Nathan and Peter didn't seem to budge, still staring at each other; Nathan with a death look on his face and Peter, who was about to burst out laughing.

"Sorry Nate," Peter laughed out loud, slapping Nathan's arm, which was right behind me. "Bros before hos, eh?"

A hand reached out from behind him and slapped him across his head, making him jerk and chuckle as he lost his balance. I giggled at the two hooligans, so perfect for each other. They understood each other and laughed at each other's jokes, never too serious, but loose too.

"Who are you calling a ho?" Rachel cried, planting a kiss on his cheek.

"Fight we break up—" Peter started.

"Kiss we make up!" Rachel and I filled in.

"Oh, my lord," Peter and Nathan rolled their eyes and Peter draped his arms around Rachel's shoulder, guiding her into their room.

"We'll see who's hot and who's cold," Peter whispered.

When the door slammed shut, I immediately forgot to ask Rachel something that had bothered me. How did she get into Sylar's head?

"Hey Rachel, how did—" I started as I opened the door, pausing in the doorway.

_Holy shit._

A split second after they'd gotten into the room, they were making out. Rachel was on the bed as Peter laid next to her, their lips perfectly in sync as Peter wrapped his arms around her in a secure cage. I had never seen Peter and Rachel like this before—it was so foreign to me with their perky attitudes.

Nathan reached out from behind me, pulling be back with his hand wrapped around my waist as his other hand closed the door, his head leaning on my right shoulder. I backed away, pushing his hands off of my waist.

My mind flashed to Sylar and Ashley's familiar touches that I paid attention to so I could interpret their body language.

_Ashley_.

My sister. Gone.

I had only got to be her sister for a few days and now she was gone—because _I_ killed her . . . _me_. How could I have . . . _no_, it wasn't my fault. She died with honor, for the one she loved. To protect him . . . from me. She probably knew what I could have done I was dangerous and reckless with my powers around others, and I could get out of control. I killed her. I killed my sister. I . . . me . . . it was me.

"Vasanti?" Nathan asked, turning to me. "Are you okay?"

I backed away from him as he reached out to me. Crossing my arms, I closed my eyes.

How could I have . . . killed her? No . . . it wasn't my fault. She _died_ with _honor_. For the one she loved. To protect him from . . . me. She probably knew what I could have done. I was dangerous and reckless with my powers around others, and I could--and would--go out of control.

_I killed her_.

"Vasanti?"

Nathan's voice was worrying, and I hadn't noticed that I walked away, staring out the window of Nathan's bullet-proof (probably missile-proof) office window, tears streaming and gleaming as they were wiped away by the ends of my sleeves.

"I killed her, Nathan," I whispered. "It was me."

"Vasanti, don't torture yourself, you need to--"

"Nathan, I _killed_ her! It tortures me even when I _don't_ think about it!" I cried, tears shattering onto the ground. "That's all that matters! I'm a killer! You _know_ I killed her! You _saw_ me kill her! I could see it in your eyes! _You_ think I'm a _monster_! You're a senator, you're supposed to look at both sides before choosing. I thought you'd _understand_."

I just wanted to die, I needed to disappear or else I'd hurt more people around me. Mindoaybe I'd eventually have one of the adventerous, life-changing, forbidden love affairs with hell when I was in heaven, or have an affair with heaven when I was in hell. But that was already happening to me. Right _here_ and _now_.

Nathan grabbed my shoulders from behind me and pulled me backwards until I was sitting in one of his smooth, leather chairs, his face a few inches from mine. His hands still gripped me, even as I relaxed. He looked me straight in the eye, mesmerizing me with his hazel-gold eyes. I stared into his eyes, as if to find something that I hadn't seen before, wanting to find something that could tell me that he _cared_. Something for me to count on for no apparant reason, just for my own gain. To be selfish.

"I _am_ listening to both sides, but I've only heard _your_ side," Nathan said in a calm, quiet voice. "But what you've done _doesn't_ matter to me. We'll find a way to get you through this."

I looked away, disgusted. How could Nathan _look_ at me without seeing a killer in my eyes. I shook my head, staring off and out the window, knowing that the trees that grazed with ease were mocking me.

"Vasanti, you're in shock," Nathan mumbled. "You just need to . . . relax, have some leisure time."

"My god, Nathan!" I yelled, a bit _too_ loud. "I'm _trying_ to have some leisure time!"

"Well maybe you just need to--"

I turned around to look at him and cut him off. I looked deeper into him and my eyes softened. _He cared about me_. He was worried. I had something to count on . . . I had someone who'd be there for me, fighting for my side. But we couldn't be together . . . because he wouldn't fight for the _Villia_ side.

"--talk it out with someone," Nathan finished.

The way he was looking at me was now scary. His jaw was clenched and he had stiffened as he gripped onto my arm. His glare was almost . . . seducting.

"Nathan, maybe you should be--"

Nathan's hand raced up to my cheek as I argued and he pulled my face closer to his as he leaned forward.

_OhMyGod, he was going to_--

--and our lips met.

~End of Chapter Eight~


	9. Last

**the cutest scene .. i think ...**

~Our Notion~

*Last*

Everything happened so quickly as I voluntarily pressed closer to him, flying him to the other couch, making him slam into it as we kissed, his hands wrapping around me as my hands brushed across his forehead, against his hair. His hair was silky smooth and felt like it had been combed through a thousand times every minute, and I loved it that way, it just gave me another reason to keep holding him close.

This is what they meant when they said love couldn't be explained in words. And I didn't use any to tell him that I needed him, neither did he. Who knew he felt this way in just a short period of time?

I could _not_ believe it. It was like a dream come true. I had _never_ fantasized my first kiss, but if I ever did, _this_ was it. Nathan felt the same way for me as I felt for him. Or maybe more because he was the one who'd made the first move.

His tongue lingered on the surface of my lips and I gripped onto his shoulders, my thighs clasping around Nathan's pelvis as I leaned closer to him. I held him close as he pulled my head closer, leaving me breathless as I took another jagged breath, inhaling every unimaginable smell that he had lingering on him. My stomach lurched in nervousness as our proximity made it impossible to breathe. But who needed to breathe when you were straddling the person you met a few weeks ago? He immediatley flipped me over so I was on the couch and he flew off, landing in his office chair.

I gasped, taking deep breaths as I gripped onto the couch, staring at him. Nathan had his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose, thinking hard. _Too _hard. His face looked pained, but compared to mine, it wasn't pained enough.

"That . . . wasn't right," Nathan whispered. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," I stuttered. "It was . . . interesting . . . it gave me some potential."

"No, I shouldn't have done that," Nathan protested.

The denial hurt. Was it just a game? _Liar_. How could he do this? He was playing me. Was Rachel using her compulsion? _No_. Tracy had stood him up to this. She wanted to know how far we would--I would--go. Couldn't he feel the same for me without being forced to?

"No, you _should_ have," I muttered. "Because _I_ would have done that sooner or later."

He stopped spinning around in his chair and looked at me, remorse in his eyes.

"Vasanti, you know I'm a lot older than you are," Nathan informed, as if I didn't already knokw. "It may not mean anything to you, but you're a teen, and I'm an adult. It wouldn't look good--"

"For your campaign?" I blurted, trying to hold in the pain that I'd never felt before. "I can't _believe_ you."

The atmosphere around me was suddenly dark and critisizing as I shook my head at him, using the back of my hand to wipe away the tears of betrayal and pain. He didn't even move, now, he didn't have a single look on his face that said 'I care about you.' It was all gone because his campaign was more important than being with me, meaning that I should have thought at this moment that Sylar was more important than Nathan--but it wasn't true!

"I've always loved the way you smile," I whispered, taking a deep, jagged breath. "_Always_. From the moment I felt your jacket around my shoulders, the way you twirled me around the ballroom--I knew something was _there_. And already, in such a short time, I feel as if I'm--" falling for you.

I stood up, heading towards the door, my eyes tearing up as I had to close my eyes to contain my pain, to keep from falling apart in front of him. This was worse than killing Ashley, than killing Jeremy. This pain was worse than if I killed Sylar, because _this_ time, I was killing myself and I didn't know how to stop, how to scream and have someone hear me, how to get someone to _care_. I was alone in this world without the ones I loved.

"Don't fall for me," Nathan said.

"I know," I bit my lip as I spat it out, "you have . . . Tracy."

"No, don't fall for me because," Nathan paused slowly, "There's no reason to."

But there were so many reasons to love him! He was perfect. He _was_ mine. And I blew it. But I loved him! What was I supposed to do? 'Hi, I'm Vasanti, and I think I'm in love with you!'

"Nathan, we would be able to change the world, starting with out lives," I cried, my hand tracing against the door. "We belong together."

"_You_ don't belong with _me_," Nathan twirled in his chair so he faced the windows, not me.

I closed my eyes as the words soaked in and wanted to spew out curses. I exhaled as my hand slammed against the door, my lips quivering as tears made themselves comfortable, flying onto the floor. My hand braced against the doorknob, and before I twisted it, I turned to face Nathan, who didn't look my way at all.

"The higher you fly me, the farther you drop me," I muttered a last time before slamming the door shut and speeding down the front door stairs.

A few cars were parked outside, _black_ cars to be exact, and bodyguards were filed out on the grass, waiting for me as one pulled a door open for me. I shook my head and tried to wipe the tears away, but a nosy bodyguard _had_ to ask a question.

"Are you okay, Miss Gray?" he whispered. "Because we know you aren't."

_Smart_, someone who knows.

"No, I'm not okay," I muttered. "I'm going to walk home, and hopefully get ran over by a taxi."

I pushed away all the bodyguards and stepped onto the sidewalk, walking towards Times Square with tears falling behind me. Times Square was a long ways away, nearly two miles, but I was prepared to walk that far for _any_ reason. The rain had stopped--hallelujiah--so I didn't have to get soaked, only my flats were the unforunate ones.

How could nathan be so cruel? Everything seemed to bother me after thismoment. The rain on the sidewalk splashed against my flats, soaking my jeans. I smelled greatly of Nathan's irresistable scent, and my lips, no doubt still felt the force that he had given me. I crossed my arms and kept walking, a taxi stopping in front of me after 10 minutes of my jeans getting soaked, even though I didn't even hail a taxi. I climbed in happily, pulling my hair into a ponytail as he asked me where I was headed.

"Dr. Suresh?" I questioned, looking at him through the mirror to meet his eyes.

"Ah, Vasanti," he nodded, looking away. "On your way home?"

"Uh . . . yeah."

Dr. Mohinder Suresh was a geneticist at this Company that he was paid to work for, but the place he worked at was _really_ secret to the humans who didn't want anything to do with the evolution in the world. Mohinder had black hair in curls, his deep chocolate skin glowed as headlights shone on his face. My eyes darted to his hand on the steering wheel, a_ Solitude_ crest ring slipped on his finger.

"Mohinder?" I asked, "how did you choose which side you'd be on?"

"Well, then," Mohinder observed, "still thinking about which side to choose, then?"

I nodded, folding my hands into my lap as I stared out the window, the lights flying by.

"All three sides are the same," I grumbled. "Why do we even _have_ them?"

"In a way, the are unique; we all want to change the world differently," Mohinder explained, turning to catch my eyes. "Like when we used to have Democrats and Republicans."

"So how did you choose the side?"

"Well, let's just say--the _side_ chose me," Mohinder chuckled. "And the side adapted well with my skills."

"What do you think of someone who can't choose?" I whispered. "

"I know what I think of the ones who've _chosen_," he smiled. "The ones who choose at an early age are in a rush to prove themselves or are forced to."

"And the ones who are offered _all_ sides?"

The car suddenly jolted to a stop in the middle of the road, my seat beltless body jerking forward and hitting the passenger seat. My head spun for a second as it adjusted to the blow, the fog clearing up as we passed the exit through the brightness of Times Square.

"You got offered _both?_" Mohinder gasped. "Who offered them?"

"I was offered the _Villia_ crest last year on my birthday--which is actually in three weeks--and the _Solitude _crest was offered by Angela Petrelli," I said.

"Not Nathan?" Mohinder was clearly surprised.

"No," I muttered. "What do you think of the _Neutrals_ that choose their sides? They have a side that they're more faithful to."

"Loads of questions, eh?" Mohinder laughed. "Well, I believe that theses groups--as we call it--is like a religion to us. The people who have powers don't have abilities and don't have a bilities can eighter choose to live it with us and accept it; remain _Neutral_ and help _both_ sides, or pretend not to even know we're alive, which is _so_ many others in the world."

I paused as I soaked everything in, the comparisons beyond belief. Everything made sense as I repeated the words over and over. A religion. That's why so many people at school were divided these days into the four groups and broken down from there. It seemed as if we had four different sections to everywhere we were--the halls, lockers, lunchroom, classroom, the library--_everywhere_. There were four sections for everything and I mostly stuck to the ones who thought they could act like the 21st century highschoolers: jocks, preps, scene, skater, goths emos, and _I_ belonged with the _loners_. Everyone stays away from me because Sylar's a threat to our very society and future.

I shook the thought out of my head, stepping out of the taxi as he rolled down the windo so I could hand him the money. We were a house away from home, which made me anxious as I saw that all the lights were dimmed. He pushed the money away from him, pushing into my palm.

"It's on me," he smiled and nodded, his neck long curly hair bouncing.

"But . . ."

He glared at me and I pulled my hand away, stepping off the grass and onto the sidewalk. Before I could rush back to my house, he whispered my name.

"I have faith in you," he said, staring into my eyes. "You'll be the first of a _new generation_ for us. Don't pressure yourself to choose a side immediatley, once you do, you can't turn back."

"Thanks," I whispered. "I'll see you at the next rumble."

As I stepped slowly away and Mohinder drove off, it hit me. _The Rumble_. We had rumbles every four to five years to test our powers agaisnt each other, and I'd only been to one in my life, and that was when I was seven years old. The _Villias_ had obviouslywon, and took the wins until this day, but so many _Solitudes_ were being bred and so many _Villias_ were being killed constantly.

Samuels opened the door for me, gesturing me in as he closed the gates.

"Ms. Gray, are you--"

"No, Samuels," I whispered. "I need to get away for a while. I need more time to think."

I rushed inside the house, tears welling in my eyes as I stopped to stare at Sylar from under the chandelier, Sylar's crying body on the couch, slouched and broken. My heart sank, and I wanted--_so badly_--to reverse everything, to switch my life for hers at this moment.

He looked up at me, his eyes sore and red from crying, Ashley's ring in his palm. My brother _needed_ me.

_NO!_

What about the times I needed him? _Where_ was he? _Who_ was he to me? _Why_ didn't he come? _Where_ was he?

But I couldn't stay . . . not now . . . I _had_ to leave. I had to leave before I made him hurt even more. Before I hurt _all_ the people I loved.

"Icebeam," Sylar sighed, his lips barely moving.

Before I could look at him, I ran up the stairs, trying not to burst into tears as I slammed the door shut and sulked onto the floor, my head on my knees. _Where would I go? _A hotel . . . okay . . . that's where I'd go. I'd stay there for a week or so and seclude myself, along with my abilities.

I stood up, rushing into my walk-in closet and pulling out my duffle bag, throwing handfulls of clothes into it, unconsciencous or what I threw in it. Running into the corner of my freakishly large closet, I pressed my thumb onto the scanning device, the door flying open as I pulled out a stack of hundreds. I grabbed handfuls of them, shoving it onto the bag, turning off the light in my closet as I closed the door.

I rummaged through my desk for the one thing I wouldn't leave without, and my head snapped up as the door opened, then closed.

"Ms. Gray," Mia whispered.

"I'm leaving," I muttered, still searching through my desk.

I came across two 4 by 6 images, laminated and in perfect condition. Sighing, I threw the images into my bag.

"We need you, Vasanti," Mia said, her voice breaking.

I cried out as I found what I was looking for, shoving it into a pocket in the bag, zipping it up.

"I have to leave," I sighed. "But I'll be back."

"Promise?" Mia whimpered, tears streaming down her face.

"I promise, I sighed, wiping her tears away with my thumb. "Don't be the 23-year-old who cries because I leave for a week."

She laughed through her tears, making a smile appear on my face. This is _just_ what I needed when I leave--someone who needs me, cares for me. This couldn't have been more difficult. Mia had been my friend since I was born, and _this_ was how I repay her?

"Ms. Gray, _Villias_ are disappearing, wear _this_," Mia untied her headband, handign it to me. "They can't touch you if you wear this."

I didn't even _know_ the _Neutrals_ had a crest, but I guess they had to have one in order to be safe from the others, thinking they were either _Solitudes_ or _Villias_. The headband had a pendant strung on it, the engraving on it was deeper, seeming to make the red rose a 3-D image. In the middle was a blood-red tinted rose with a crown hovering on top of it, the thorns on the stem were a golden warning color, and the background had thorns crossing each other to patch up the sun, to block it out.

"Oh, Mia . . . I can't take it," I said, handing it back to her.

"It'll help you get a job, you can't just be sitting in a room for a week," Mia pushed it back to me. "It's the least I can do for you at this time."

I clutched the headband, sighing as I pulled her into a hug, my tears streaming onto her dark red t-shirt. I tore out a sheet of paper from my sticky notes on the table, scribbling down the place where I was going to go and the address, along with the phone number.

"There's only one throughout Conneticuit," I whispered, handing it to her. "If you want to send something to me, just call them and ask for Vasanti. Don't tell anyone, and if Samuels is listening right now, I hope he decides to keep it a secret."

I sighed and ran my finger across my bed, wanting to curl up and sleep forever, to let go of all my worries.

"If I want to see you?"

"No, only calls," I warned.

"How will you get there?" Mia asked.

I smirked, trying to hid the pain as I pulled out my jacket from the hanger on the wall, throwing it on and clasping the clip together accross my body, the jacket falling past my waist.

"Full tank of the new version of sun powder in the Jaguar," I stepped out of the room and dragged the oversized bag with me, scrambling down the stairs.

"Vasanti, stay," Sylar called, standing up and taking my arm. "I don't want to lose you.

The sleeve of his sweatshirt was pulled up adn I could see marks on the arm, made by running his finger across his arm and I gasped.

"Sylar? Are you . . . cutting yourself?"

He looked away from me, dark circles under his eyes and a hint of vulnerability in his eyes that I had _never_, in my entire life, seen before.

"What the hell, Sylar?" I yelled. "If the _Solitudes_ decide to have Nathan call you up for a rumble, they'd _know_ you're vulnerable!"

"It doesn't matter anymore," Sylar scofffed. "Ashley's dead!"

"What did you say?" A voice called from behind us, the door creaking open. "My Ashley is . . . _dead_?"

"Mr. Berkof," I muttered under my breath. "It's a pleasure to . . . see you again."

"She's dead?"

"Yes, she is," I cried. "_I_ killed her!"

I wiped away the tears, stepping away from Sylar as he hung his head down.

"I've got to report this to . . ."

"The police don't deal with _Solitude-Villia_ related deaths, get the hell out of here," Sylar growled.

Mr. Berkof ran out, looking back at Sylar with fear written all over his face. I scoffed at Sylar and backed away from him.

"_That_ is why I have to leave, Sylar," I whispered. "I need _lots_ of time to control myself."

"Dont leave," Sylar pleaded. "You _can't_ leave!"

I was _sick_ of havign Sylar tell me what to do, I just needed some time to myself, was that so hard to deal with? Did he really want me to become a killer like him?

"Most of what I am, is what you expect me to be!" I screamed. "I need time to think about who I am, not what you _expect_ me to be."

"What has _he_ done to you?" Sylar gasped. "You've changed . . ."

"I've come to know that _I_ need to choose who I want to be, and who I _am_," I explained quietly. "Leaving is the _best way_."

I turned around and headed for the door, Samuels followign behind me. I needed to say something constructive if I was going to leave like this. Something that Sylar could live with for a week or two.

"Do what Ashley would want you to do," I mutttered as I slipped itno my flats, opening the door. "She wouldn't stand seeing you like this."

Samuels closed the door and stepped out with me, pressing a button so the garage door could open. I pressed in the combination into the keypad, pulling the door open and throwing my bag into the passenger seat. I ducked my head and stood up, nodding to Samuels as I climbed into the deep-blue colored Jaguar and pressed a button, the engine revving before screeching away into the darkness.

The headlilghts shone across the road as I drove away from the only family I had ever known. But I sucked it up and pressed the screen of the GPS, a welcoming sound turning on.

"Destination: Blue Dragon," the woman's voice said in a monotone. "State: Conneticuit."

I pulled out the thing that I wouldn't leave without, gazing at it silently. The _Villia_ crest. I would make my decision soon, and I'd be ready for anything that would be thrown my way.

"Turn right," the monotone voice muttered again.

_Blue Dragon, here I come._

~End of Chapter Nine~


	10. Connecticut

**i've got to say, this is one of those chapters where you just know that I've had a hard time putting together**

**the original chapter ten/eleven was ACTUALLY over 75 pages so i decided that the fashion show will NOT be a major role in this story .... **

**i had a writers block during this chapter ... you can kind of tell ... but as always READ AND REVIEW!**

~Our Notion~

*Conneticuit*

I yawned as I pressed my foot on the gas with my heels, hurrying along on the highway as rush hour was coming close.

I had been driving all night, and I'd stopped once at a mall to get something to eat. I had picked up a burger and three liters of Dr. Pepper, and needless to say, I was finished with what I bought. The Dr. Pepper and radio that was on, made me sane . . . I think.

"Welcome to Conneticuit," the computer GPS said. "15 miles to destination."

While I was at the mall and got somethign to eat, I also stopped at some stores on the way; I mean who can resist going to the mall with out getting clothes? I went to a solon and clothing store before I had my feast, knowing that I needed to have a chance to experience mystery like Sylar did.

The salon had given me products to volumnize my hair after they had made my bangs brushed to one side, my hair flaring out in a hot way _without_ cutting any hair.

I was always the one to be laid back and innnocent, always afraid of what others would think of me, but I needed to see how _Villias_ felt when they wore the too short skirts and low cut shirts. But I knew I didn't need to change myself, but it was fun shopping for things I didn't need, it was lmost like shopping for a Halloween costume.

For my _Villia_ outfit, I chose a dark colored plaid skirt and a tank with a black vest and long black boots that went up to my knees and other things that looked _gothic_ and were appealing to my eyes. For Nathan's sake, my _Solitude_ outfit was a bit stereotyping because I didn't hang out with many (any) _Solitudes_. I chose a type of waitress outfit, a white blouse with a tie and a black skirt with red designs along with black pumps. Another _Solitude_ outfit was something typical, at least I hope the _Solitudes_ wore it: a pair of _very_ skinny jeans and a low cut shirt with a beaded necklace and another pair of heels. Finally, for my _Neutral_ outfit, I shopped for _anything_ I liked: dresses, tops, shoes, heels, jewelry, nearly _everything_.

I felt as if I were spoiling myself, but I only ended up with a few of each and different sets of things that could perfectly go together. Most of the colors were dark color, red, blue, purple, and black, seeming to fit my mood, even though some of the colors were bright, but not much.

I ended up wearing a short strapless silk black dress by Julie Haus with black leggings under it, white jewels studded at the ends and black heels with diamonds embedded across the strap that ran across my foot, the straps wrapping and coiling around my ankle. I had a single silver bracelet on with a few jewels on it in a heart shaped design. The earrings hung from my hears, the two short pieces clanging together as I set my elbow on the open window, threading my hand into my hair, the nails gleaming.

The salonist had worked on my face and nails also, giving a me a small sample of make up to use, not enough to last a week. The bronze eyeliner was drawn on my eyes, a golden eyeshadow, and my skin smooth, my lips plump and juicy with gloss.

"Ten miles to destination."

"Great," I grumbled as a traffic jam of cars came into view when I turned a corner in the city.

I pulled out a pair of white lined sunglasses, trying to block the sun out of my eyes as I jolted to a stop, moving slowly forward with the sun in my face, the tall buildings reflecting the sun off of any surface, making the sun seem to be everywhere.

I needed to make a reservation at the hotel before I went there, even though it was short notice.

"Hello, I'd like to make a reservation at your hotel," I said sweetly, pulling on my inner persuasion. "It's _very_ short notice though."

"Name, please?" he muttered in a thick Scottish accent. "The Blue Dragon promises you a room in a zoom."

"Vasanti Gray," I whispered.

"Ah, Vasanti!" he cried out. "It'll be a pleasure to have you here. Please stop at the front desk to check in."

"Thank you, sir," I sighed. "You don't know how much this means to me."

"It's my pleasure," I detected a hint of a smile in his voice. "You have a wonderful day."

After I hung up, I took out the batteries to my phone, shoving it in my

_It's my pleasure_, echoed inside my head. The exact thing that Nathan had told me. This was going to be a horrible week.

***

After 30 minutes of a traffic jam, I pulled up to the blue dragon hotel, stopping at the front of the entire building.

The dome protected us from the melting sun and the sign outside in the sun was labled _The Blue Dragon_ in ocean-blue letters, the _G_ in dragon made out of a dragon and flying about throught the letters.

Before I could step out, the handsome chauffer smiling at me through the window, I pulled out the _Neutral_ crest that was shoved away in a pocket with the _Solitude _and _Villia_ crests, wraping around my head and tying it behind my head. I finally walked out, nodding the the chauffers as he drove my car into the parking lot, another grabbing my bag and escorting me in.

"Hello, Richard," people said as they passed by, eyeing me like I was a freak show.

He was wearing a blue jacket, his name on a metal plate on his chest, clearly printed. _Richard_ had dark brown, shaggy hair and dark blue eyes, seeming to compliment me silently as he looked at my headband.

"Are you here for the fashion show, Miss Gray?" Richard asked. "I don't remember you including that in your speech."

I looked up at him, surprised. He shrugged and looked forwards.

"Uh, no," I muttered. "I just needes ome time off of politics. This was the perfect place."

We stepped into the otel and I smiled, feeling like I was walking into a palace. The walls were a shade darker than gold, the lobby carpeted with an amazing tesselating pattern, the railings glinting as we walked down the isle, and the front desk was large and in the middle with a bell and a freakishly large man behind the counter, behind him was the seats for the lobby, elevators lined up beside each other.

"Well, have a nice stay at The Blue Dragon," Richard nodded, setting my bags on a cart. "I'll . . . see you around."

The man behind the counter eyed my clothes as I took off my sunglasses to get a better look at him. He had dark skin and was bald, the suit he was wearing making him look professional and strict.

"Hi, I'm--"

"Vasanti Gray," he smiled, shaking my hand. "A pleasure to meet you. How long are you planning to stay?"

"Two weeks at most," I huffed, handing him my credit card.

He swiped my card, handing it back to me as he typed in a couple of things, nodding as he reached from under the desk and handed me a card with my roon number engraved on it

"Room 513," he said. "Have a great stay at The Blue Dragon."

I stopped my self as I started to walk away.

"Say, do you have any job openings?"

"Well . . ." he thought about it for a moment, scrolling down on his screen. "Miss Gray, I'll call your room if there are, we have many of our workers designing for the fashion show next week."

"Okay, thank you."

***

I stepped into the room and smiled, throwing my card onto the shelf next to my right, hooking my keys on there also. To my left was a small kitchen and then there was a wall, a bed braced up against it with pure white sheets spread evenly. There was a desk that sat next to the sliding door to a balcony with a worklamp. Across my bed was a large door leading to the bathroom and a closet large enough to cover the entire wall.

I pulled out my new wardrobe and threw them into the closet as robotic hands grabbed them and sorted them out, shoving them into drawers.

"Thank you," I muttered to the machine, slipping out of my heels and smiling at the desk. which had a laptop on it.

I turned it on and opened the sliding door, stepping onto the balcony, looking into the backyard. They had a pool . . . interesting. I typed in , pulling up my page with a million comments from Liz and Sarah. All of the comments were from today, how I didn't answer my cell--and they might call the cops.

_Sarah: where r u? _

_Vasanti: hotel, srry_

_Liz: god, u suck_

_Sarah: when will u b back? _

_Vasanti: a few wks_

_Liz: we miss u! ;( _

_Vasanti: u've gotta check out my new wardrobe though!_

_Liz: great, u went shopping w/out us too!_

_Sarah: u do suck! we hate you!!_

_Vasanti: o, realy? _

_Liz: she was kidding, show us a pic!_

I pulled out a webcam and snapped a picture of me next in front of the wardrobe, sending it to them, my hand shaped in a heart.

_Sarah: that's awesome_

_Liz: wait a sec . . . u don't go spoilin urself unless sumtin's wrong . . . _

_Sarah: yea, what is it? _

_Liz: is that a NEUTRAL CREST?! That's soooooooooo cool!_

I scoffed, fighting back tears as my friends understood me so well, and didn't seem to judge me at all.

_Vasanti: fine, i have dirt . . . _

_Liz: waiting . . ._

_Sarah: *ten years later*_

_Vasanti: well . . . _

_Liz: let me guess . . . it's bout senator boy? _

_Vasanti: yepp_

_Sarah: omg! u totally went all over each other, didn't u?!_

_Liz: say WHAA? _

_Sarah: *cough, cough*_

_Liz: a kiss? _

_Sarah: Not a KISS!_

_Liz: u two made out?_

_Vasanti: omg, you people are good guessers . . . _

_Liz: NO FLIPPING WAY!!_

_Sarah: liz is totally hyperventilating right now . . . _

_Liz: v, u kno what will happen rite? _

_Sarah: don't REMIND her, liz_

_Vasanti: it doesn't matter, it's already happened. _

_Sarah: aww . . . v, THIS is what it's about?!_

_Liz: it wasn't your fault you made out with him, let alone kill ashley!! _

_Sarah: plz, get over it! we need u!_

_Vasanti: I luv all of u . . . but i gotta go . . ._

I sighed and turned off the computer as the phone rang, pushing the chair in as I picked up the wireless phone, plopping myself on the bed.

"Hello, this is Vasanti Gray," I muttered.

"Ah, yes, Miss Gray," the manager whispered. "We have an opening for modeling, and Alex wants _you_ in it, no exceptions."

"Wait!" I cried. "You want _me_ to be a model?"

"Well, Miss Gray, it's a small show, and you get a discount on your stay, and free room service," he said, persuading me.

"Fine," I huffed. "When do I start?"

"The show is next week, and you have this week and a few days next week to practice," he ordered. "You start tomorrow."

I sulked in my bed, groaning as I flipped to my favorite station. As I listened to the station, I unzipped a pocket in my bag, pulling out the two picture that I had to look at. I threw my bag into the robotic closet, the whirring from inside seeming to be ripping apart my stuff. I laid down to stare at the pictures, both of them laminated and still in perfect condition, even through my journey.

Blinking away tears, I looked at the picture of Sylar and I, a few years ago when I had decided that we should plant a Weeping Willow outside my window. After they were done planting the 50 year old tree outside, Samuels snapped a picture of Sylar and I, in front of the tree. The picture was only from our waist up, and I was wearing a blue long-sleeved shirt, my hair straightened and blowing in the wind, a smile that could make someone melt, planted on my face. Sylar was smiling like there was nothing to it, his arms crossed as his hair was swiped to one side by the wind. The leaves and branches of the willow seemed to sway the same way all of our hair was blowing, making our eyes dry up.

My arms were wrapped around him, my head leaning on his shoulder as I tried to make a good impression for the camera. _We_ were so young then, and everything was so . . . different. I was the happiest girl alive--but what happened to her?

I turned that photo over, looking at the picture of Nathan at the ball. This picture was so familiar, and I could feel all the feelings that came with it. Someone had managed to get a picture of Nathan and I, in our little dance circle, my arms around his shoulders as his arms were around my waist, my dress flowing across the floor gracefully. I was so scared that night, but I loved every moment of it.

It was so horrible to look at all these pictures and actually find joy out of them, because someone was going to be hurt when it was time for me to choose. I shoved all the pictures away, laying on my back as I burned holes through the ceiling with my eyes.

I vocalized with myself, singing along with the radio. My voice leapt along with the melodies, my singing voice seeming to be more charming than my usual voice. But I stopped as an unfamiliar song played, the lyrics making my feeling stir inside, even though I'd never heard this song before.

"What Hurts the Most-By: Rascal Flatts," the machine voice said as I pressed the 'song' button.

I closed my eyes as I listened, tears welling up at the corners of my eyes, wanting to spill as Nathan's smiling face stuck in my head. My mind drifted and I dreamed that we were on a beach, my arm hooked with my father's and walking down the isle wearing a dress _so_ white, that it could be heaven itself. Nathan stood ahead of us, his hands folded and in an elegant black tuxedo. I beamed at him through my veil as the ceremony started and everyone sat down.

The sun beamed on the tent as everything seemed to be perfect. Nathan didn't have his crest on, as well as everyone else here, we were just who we were, jut normal people without choosing sides. The wind ruffled my veil, swaying it to the side as the priest said the verses.

"Vasanti Gray. Do you take Nathan Petrelli to be your lawful wedded husband? Or--"

_OR_? There was no _or_ in a wedding vow! Never! I looked up, bewildered at Nathan, his expression now blank, but hurt.

"--do you take Sylar as your lawful brother?"

"_WHAT_?" I screamed. "This is . . ."

"Vasanti, choose," Sylar growled, stepping out from behind Nathan. "_Choose._"

"What?" I cried, stepping away, down the isle. "You can't _make_ me choose!"

"Vasanti, listen," Nathan whispered. "You have to choose. _Now_. There isn't much time."

The scenery suddenly changed, ruins surrounding us as the world spun, two separate groups facing each other, 25 feet apart, staring at each other, and I was in the middle. _I_ had to choose. It was a rumble.

"No, Vasanti," Mia whispered, stepping through the _Villia_ side as they parted for her. "This is what you are. The answer has been there for you the entire time."

She smirked, opening her palm and revealing to me, all three crests, a flash appearing as she slowly merged them all together into one. Mia patted me on the back and dropped the pendant on the ashes in the ground. She disappeared and I gasped as the pendant disappeared. I scrambled to my hands and knees to look for it, my white dress now a dark, gross color of ashes.

I pulled out the pendant in exhasperation, brushing off the dark residue that covered the design, my finger wiping it off. As the image was clearer, I gasped, dropping the pendant, the chain linking around my arm and showing everyone else what the crest's image was.

It swung back and forth, glinting off of the sun, mocking me. Then, everyone burst out laughing. They laughed and laughed, pointing at me like I was a freak. Nathan, Sylar, Rachel, Peter, Liz, Sarah, Dal, Liam, Samuels, and Mia--they _all _laughed at me.

This is what I was . . . what I am . . .

The crest was empty . . . nothing to see--I was nothing.

***

I jumped up before I could fall off of the bed, answering the phone that had been ringing for quite some time. I swiped my bangs from my face, trying to collect myself before I spoke.

"Miss Gray, here," I muttered.

"You have _30 minutes_ to get down here and _train_!" the guy yelled in a girly voice. "_Tops_! No, girls, settle down and get your booty in. A. Chair! See you in the ballroom, honey!"

I set the phone down and sighed, grabbing a towel from the robotic closet and slipped into the shower, setting my timer on 25 minutes. I rubbed the shampoo and conditioner into my hair, the salonitst was right about her products, it smelled sexy and luscisous, but at the same, sweet and innocent.

Stepping out of the shower, I wrapped a towel around my body and hair, smiling as the bathrom was large and roomy . . . just like Nathan's bathroom. I blowdried my hair with the one they had provided for me and brushed my hair into a ponytail and spraying a light layer of Aussi hairspray on it before changing into a bright yellow short dress with sleeves near my elbow, my back bare as the opening was like a large teardrop on my back, from my shoulders to the middle of my backbone with diamond jewels on the edges.

I pulled on white tights to match my dress and stepped into white-diamond flats, tapping my foot to settle my feet in the new shoes. I pulled out my card if I wanted to get back in my room, and stepped out the door, clutching the card as I waited for the elevator.

Was my dream _really_ accurate? Was I _really_ nothing?

I'd have to choose between . . . Sylar and Nathan? But I could never choose, I knew that. _That's_ why I was nothing. I wouldn't be able to choose, and I'd have to be kicked out of our society--go in hiding. I was a nobody.

_And that's all I needed to know_.

***

"Wait, wait, _wait_!" I cried. "You want _me_ to wear _that_?"

"Well, _those_ to be exact," Alex muttered. "It's a two-piece."

I stared at Alex. I _just_ got here and sat in the chair for _five_ minutes, and already, they had introduced me to many varieties of clothing. Alex was teh director of the show, he had short, cropped hair that was a dark color and his face was a dark Middle-Eastern tan and ha dan _amazing_ attitude that made _every_ model jumpy and excited.

My assigned dressers were two older women who looked at each other and smiled frequently. Both of them wore some type of classy clothes, their hair curly and a red color.

"Honey," Alex said. "We don't have time for this!"

Oh, and if you were wondering, Alex was the _best_ gay manager I've _ever_ had. And _I_ have _no_ problem with that.

"Fine, I'll wear the skanky swimsuit," I muttered. "Let's practice."

"Okay, girls, huddle up!" Alec yelled, signalling us to turn over our chairs to face him from around the room.

The room was lit up by light bulbs on top of the mirrors that we all got, and a chair with a big space to quickly change into _quickly_--talk about bad hygiene.

"Give the crowd what they want," Alex smiled. "They. Want. Attitude!"

The girls giggled as they changed into their swimsuits, their dressers helping them. Marie and Maria gave me my suit and stood there.

"Umm . . . a little privacy please!"

They crossed their arms and turned around, talking in a foreign language--Portugese? I slipped into the suit, sighing as I couldn't get it right, so Marie and Maria just _had_ to but in and help me, making me feel even more lost and insecure.

In the end, I still looked like a skanky bitch. I waved to Marie and Maria after practice, rushing out of the room and taking in a sigh of relieve as I passed a bar/club on the way back to my room. The music filled the halls and it seemed to fly through the entire first floor. I stepped into the club, a bar on both sides of me, serving drinks to people who had their backs turned halfway towards the stage that was in the middle, a band playing a slow melody as other people sat in tables and cheered them on.

A girl was singing the melody alone, her fingers flying across the piano laid out in front of her, her blonde hair brushed back to reveal a pale face with small pink lips moving.

The song they were singing was called 'Song of a Heartbreaker' by a band called Swimshine. The song told the story of someone who thought she found her soul mate, but was never feeling right about it. The way that she was singing it made me want to sing or dance along, it was almost like a calling of some sort. I smiled at the sound of her voice, crossing my arms as I sat down in a chair.

"Thank you, everybody," the girl said into the microphone. "Come backstage if you have any questions for us."

I crept backstage after they had cleared up their set of a guitar, a drum set and a piano. The two men stared at me as I walked in, the girl smiling, her head swaying as her fingers pressed against the piano keys. The two men had dark, sad-looks on their faces, one of them, Dave, had gold-red hair, his turquiose eyes blazing with excitement as I walked in, setting his guitar down and greeting me, shaking me warmly by the hand.

Raquel had dark brown hair with black highlights, his blue eyes nodding to me as I smiled at him, his dark skin glowing.

"Hi, I'm Channing," the blond giggled, standing up to hug me "and you're vasanti."

"Umm . . . yeah," I said. "You're an _amazing_ band.:

"Well, thank you," Dave smiled, stringing his guitar.

"What would you like to know?" Raquel whispered.

Channing played a note on her violin, plucking some notes.

"Actually--I was wondering if you'd play this song, and teach me how to play the piano and sing with it," I smiled, being consumed into the circle of talk.

~End of Chapter Ten~

**REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW!! XD**


	11. Regrets

**this chapter's the one i enjoyed writing ... not really .. but whatever .. **

**please R&R! (just put something random in the review if you have nothing to say! put 'cookies' for all i care!)**

**(COOKIE MONSTER!) okay .. i'll stop .. **

~Our Notion~

*Regrets*

Over the next few days--maybe a week or so--I lost count, but it was nearly time for the fashion show. I called Vivi, in need of a remarkable dress for the 'evening gown' theme of the fashion show. She was ecstatic to show off her style to the amazing audience, to make her more . . . famous and well known. I told her to send it to the Blue Dragon hotel, and when I laid eyes on the dress, I fell in love with it.

The strap wrapped around my neck and was black with a lime green section where the black flaps parted along with lime green beads that ran down the side of the black silk cloth. The dress flared, and matching the dress was a ribbon for my hair and a pair of black heels that I _knew_ I'd trip over sooner or later.

I finished my dinner, spaghetti and finished the last of my brownie, washing the dishes in the other room. I was in capris and a tank-top, my hair tied up in a bun as I sat down on the bed, next to me lay the three crests that I hadn't touched since my first day on the fashion show.

I had started, and nearly finished my sessions with the Rockin'-Rollin' band and I was nearly ready to go on stage, I just need to get my notes right to sing and play. I hadn't thought about that creepy dream fora while, the thought still running around in the back of my head, butn ot bothering me as much anymore.

Maybe . . . I could choose Sylar, since he was my brother . . . and he . . . needed me, I owed him that much since . . . I killed Ashley. But Nathan . . . all I knew was that I loved him--but at this moment--love didn't matter--did it? That's because Nathan had Tracy, his Secretary of Defense.

I nearly came to a solution that would help me so I wouldn't have to choose between them, but it wasn't really _that_ constructive, and it wasn't that good for my health either--I needed to die. _I know!_ Smart, right?

But still, I wasn't convinced I was nothing--because the nation needed me.

***

"Places ladies, places!" Alex called, clapping his hands. "We have a full house out there!"

Alex was wearing a turtleneck and slim jeans, slipping on his glasses as he stared at all of us, shaking his head. I could tel he was nervous that we had a full house, but I thought that jsut made it better.

I slipped on my heals and slung my hand over Alex's shoulder.

"Hey buddy," I whispered. "Tonight, we'll do _fine_."

The past few days had been chaos, and _now_ it was our time to shine. Tonight was the night.

"Go rock the show, Vasanti," Alex whispered.

Everyone was chattering backstage as everyone's hair was being fixed, going to be changed everytime we came back from our scene.

My suit was cool against my skin and my hair was pulled into a ponytail, draping across my back and my heel straps nearly climbing up my leg. Marie patted make-up on my face, drawing gold liner on my eyes, covering my eyelid with bronze eyeshadow and plumping my lips. Maria worked on my hair, throwing products onto it and teasign it a bit.

Every model in front of me disappeared, and as they called out my number, I sighed.

"Vasanti, you're on deck."

I practiced my smile and pose for all two of my stops in the fork of the stage, as I tried to wiggle out of my fears, the straps of the swimsuit crawling all over my arms and stomach.

"Wearing a new style of swimear, designed by Jameson Kyle, coming into stores soon."

I swung my hips as my hands clasped to my hips, strutting my stuff as my high heels clacked onto the floor to the beat of the song. I smiled out to the audience as I stopped at the fork, walking down one side and the hair brushing back, blowing my hair to one side as I leaned to one side. I turned around and turned to another fork, flipping my posture so one hand was on my hip as I turned my back to the crowd, the only thing running through my head was--DON'T TRIP.

I despised everything after that. We were in such a rush that I nearly tripped and killed myself in the dressing room. My cheerleading outfit made me feel like I was in the movie Bring It On or something.

For the last scene, the evening gown choreography was that we were sorted by color of dress and most of the colors had black in it, so . . . Alex decided to bring in some guest stars. After we had all changed, we sat in our seats as the announcer gave a little speech. I was dressed in my gown and my hair down, straightened with small barrettes to hold in my bangs in place, the light green eyeshadow lining my lid.

"Okay!" Alex muttered, stepping into the dressing room, clapping his hands. "Our guests!"

He opened the door and gestured them in as they filed in, single file. Everyone's smile grew bigger as _male_ models walked in and I scoffed. They _had_ to be kidding. They were _proffessional_ models that were going to work with novice models. The men were all dressed in tuxedoes and suits of different brands , their faces hard and focused.

"Girls, they have seemed to already have chosen their partners," Alex raised an eyebrow. "They are _professional_, so please _try_ to measure up to them."

I sighed and tapped on my chair, about to turn around and ignore them as I patted more make up on my face.

"Okay, gentlemen," Alex smiled at me as if he knew something I didn't. "You know who your model is, so . . ."

I tuned Alex out, even though I knew I'd regret it later on, counting all the heads that I saw inside this room. I counted 26 guys . . . for . . . 25 girls? I raised my hand to ask him.

"Excuse me, why do we have 26 guys, but we only have--" And I stopped as I my eyes lingered on the end of the line, the 26th person. I was speechless as he nodded to me, taking a bow and straightening his suit.

"Peter?" I gasped. "Rachel?"

_Ho-ly sh-it_.

Rachel stepped out in a purple dress from Vivi with beads on every inch of the designs, the straps wrapping around her neck and the fabric hugging her figure.

"Well, gentlemen," Alex sighed. "You're on in 10."

All the guys stepped forward and split up, their hands crossed behind them as they nodded to their 'partner.' Agony stabbed at me as the word crossed my mind. _Partner_. The word was seriously mocking me.

I looked up at all the couples and all 24 couples, I saw Nathan and I. It was actually a beginner model with a professional model, but in my own eyes, I saw a novice politician with a scholar politition--and it broke my heart. This meant that it was going to be _a lot_ harder for me to let him go because everything I turned to reminded me of him.

My assigned partner smiled at me and I shook my head, a sly smile on my face.

"Richard?" I asked. "You chose me?"

The other male models rolled their eyes at Richard, crossing their arms.

"I didn't expect you to be . . ."

"A model?" he chuckled. "I'm staff, so I got first pick"

"Will you . . . excuse me for a moment?" I said, stepping towards Rachel and Peter.

He nodded, sitting in the spot where I was just sitting in. My dress fell onto the floor behind me and even in my heels, it draped onto the floor as I braced myself for my encounter with Rachel . . . and Peter.

"You didn't expect us? Rachel asked. "I thought you would. We're the producers."

"I'm sory, I was having my _HOLY SHIT_! moment during my entire stay here," I laughed. "I didn't expect having _stalkers_ yet."

They chimed in, laughter filling the room. Richard immediatley ruined the moment and stood next to me, smiling.

"How's my brother?" I asked. "Is he . . .?"

"About that . . ." Rachel started. "He's . . . changed ever since you've gone. He's been helping a lot around the house . . . it's somehow interesting to watch if you could go through his mind so easily now."

"It's good he's doing . . . good," I smiled.

"Eh, it's not . . . _him_ though," Peter sighed. "I liked him better with his 'I'll-snap-your-neck-open-and-eat-your-brains-and-take-your-power' kind of attitude."

"Shut up, Peter," Rachel scoffed, slapping his arm

"He needs you back, Vasanti," Peter ordered. "_They_ need you back."

"Peter, leave your brother out of this," Rachel whispered, wrapping her arm around him. "She doesn't need to--"

"What happened?" I asked, demanding an answer.

"Nathan and Sylar are at each other's throats," Peter shook his head. "They're blaming every little detail on each other."

"Who knows when they'll agree on a rumble?" Rachel sighed.

"I'm not participating in it then," I muttered. "I _can't_."

Rachel hugged me, shaking her head. Her dress braced against mine, and I could now see they were crystal-like beads that made Rachel glow in the lights.

"You need to choose, Vasanti," Rachel mumbled in my ear. "I know it's a lot of pressure, but you _need_ to choose or something horrible will happen."

"Your partner checks out," Peter smirked at Richard. "And is checking _you_ out."

"We'll see you _later_," Rachel grumbled, rolling her eyes at Peter.

I sighed, turning around and bumping into Richard. I hadn't noticed that he _was_ model material; he had the muscles, the look--even the hair. Richard had a pure black suit on, it looked purely perfectly tailored recently with the black bowtie. His hair was parted, but still wavy in the attractive way, his lips curved into a smile.

Marie and Maria added a few finishing touches onto my face and pushed me into order, my arms linked around Richard's elbow and lined up, according to number. I tapped my fingers on my dress, the air filled with nervousness as the first couple left.

"Vasanti, you'll do fine," Richard muttered, leaning down to my ear. "Just don't trip, you're on camera."

"What?!" I cried. "That doesn't help!"

"Calm down, Vasanti," Richard smiled.

And through that smile, I saw Nathan's half-hearted sad smile replace Richard's lips. I tensed and had to look away before it could consume my feelings and destroy my dignity to the fashion show.

"Let's go," Richard nodded, pulling me forward and past the curtains.

He really _was_ a professional model, excluding his job at the hotel. I took a deep breath, stepping onto the isle and smiled, clutching onto his arm as my heels clacked, my dress falling behind me.

The flashes blinded me as they simultaneously flashed a million times with ever step I took.

"Just make them think we're _together_," he muttered through clenched teeth.

At the last fork, I spun around and his eyes wandered, trying to decode what I was trying to do. He grabbed me by the waist immediatley and I wrapped my arms around his neck in surprise as I nearly fell.

Richard pulled my closer, gripping ont my waist as I tried to relax as his lips pressed against the base of my throat and the crowd went wild. I sighed, tilting my head back even more to expose my neck as he twirled me around, catching me and stepping away as if nothing had happened.

My lips were pressed in a thin line as we entered the curtains, guilt spread across my face as I passed by Rachel and Peter.

_I was _so_ dead_. I just might have_ lead _Richard on.

~End of Chapter Eleven~

**please review? pretty please??? the next chapter's when she gets to SING!!**


	12. After Party

**i'm sorry to tell you, that i'm just THAT stupid**

**to start crying when nathan comes back in this chapter ...;.. **

**i kno .. so heartfelt and stuff like that .. XD .... have fun! my favorite chapter to type so far!**

~Our Notion~

*After Party*

"Thank you, darling," Marie cried, throwing me my duffel bag which she'd thrown all the expensive make-up into. "You're a _natural _at modeling."

I smiled, hugging her and nearly crying.

"Thank you both, you guys were the best," I whispered. "I'll see you again--won't I?"

"Count us in at _any_ wedding, mija," they said, waving as they left out the door.

I had changed into a purple skirt and white leggings, ready to rock after I had rummaged through the bag of make-up that they'd given me, my bronze eyeshadow and gold eyeliner still on as I dusted off my white t-shirt, grabbing my new Blue Dragon duffel bag and heading out the door.

"Vasanti?" a voice called.

I peeked out the door, half expecting to see Nathan with a large bouquet of flowers, but was disappointed as I saw Dimitri. He handed me a bouquet of flowers, nodding to Valerie as she congratulated me. Dimitri was in a black t-shirt and khaki pants, his long brown hair tied into a ponytail and slicked back. Valerie wore some vintage jeans with a lilac-purple halter top, her sandals clacking on the ground.

"Hey, buddy," I said. "What brings you here?"

"Orders from Senator Petrelli," Dimitri sighed. "Our room is next to yours."

"For the _last time_, Dimitri," I grumbled, fastening the strap on my duffel bag and clutching the flowers. "I don't _need_ protection. You can call up _Senator Petrelli_ and tell him to shove it up his political ass."

I rolled my eyes, rounding the corner so I could walk through the lobby where attendees of the fashion show were waiting for their limos. I stepped down the hall to the bar, the dark room had dim lights hanging from the bar and a light shining on a person who was singing.

"What time is it?" I asked Dimitri, who was stalking behind me.

"8:30," Peter said, rounding the corner with Rachel.

Rachel was wearing a red V-neck and jeans, her short hair straightened and still the bright blonde color. Peter wore a gray t-shirt and jeans with his hands in his pockets, his emo hair parted sideways.

"Great, more stalkers," I grumbled. "How'd you know?"

They pointed to a white board outside the bar's door; reading: VASANTI GRAY: SPECIAL PERFORMANCE! TONIGHT ONLY!

"I should have known," I whispered, throwing my duffel bag behind the counter and nodding to the bald bartender.

I guess Richard had invited the entire fashion show cast to watch me sing and play a _single_ song because the entire place was _filled_. I sighed, taking in a sharp breath as I tried not to focus on how many people there were in the audience. But luckily for Dimitri, Rachel, Peter, and Valerie, they were able to find a seat--using Rachel's ability of course. They sat near the middle of the house, talking to each other and laughing as they pulled out their video cameras.

Groaning, I stepped backstage, behind the curtain, greeted by my friends.

"Hey guys," I smiled as they nodded to me.

Dave hugged me, kissing me on the cheek as I rolled my eyes. Dave was 17 years old and I was just a month or so off of his age. Everyone in the group was in their teens, but Raquel was turning 20 in 2 months and Channing was 18. I had somehow bonded to this band, they were like a family to me because I could be myself without trying to be someone else. They taught me what I needed to know with gentle, quiet words.

Dave was usually the more hyped up and crazy person because he was the one who played the guitar and could jam. Raquel was the one who was quiet, but when it came to playing the drums--he rocked. Channing was a small, cute girl with a sweet voice and petite hands to play the violin and piano.

Today was supposed to be a bright and dark show, so we were dressed in light and dark colors.

"Are you ready?" Channing asked, kissing Raquel on the lips.

Oh, yeah, Channing was _totally_ in love with Raquel, and I noticed it the second I arrived.

"Ready as ever!" I cried, ruffling Dave's hair and stepping to my piano.

"Okay, we had a _perfect_ rehearsal yesterday," Channing clapped her hands. "We can do it today for the final performance."

"Heck yeah!" I cried.

"Whoo!" Everyone cried out, clapping our hands together.

"Welcome the band, containing Ms. Vasanti Gray, Rock'N Rolling!"

The audience clapped and there were some un-needed shouts and whistles that came from the crowd as the curtain opened and Channing stepped up to the microphone, sighing as she smiled and nodded at me.

"Thank you, ladies and gentlemen," Channing whispered. "I'm not usually the person to give speeches, but I want to thank Vasanti for bringing our group so much happiness like never before."

I smiled as I stepped in, slipping into my seat on the piano on stage left and Rachel in the back and Dave beside Channing with a microphone. I adjusted the microphone on a stand beside me, just enough so I could sing softly into.

"Our first selection is _Pocket Full of Sunshine_ by _Natasha Bedingfield_," Dave announced into his microphone. "Than, Vasanti will immediately play and sing _What Hurts the Most_ by _Rascal Flatts_ with the accompaniment of Rock'N Rolling."

"Enjoy," we all said together, our 7 hour rehearsals _really paying off._

Channing nodded and I counted in my head, my fingers pressing down as I remembered the pattern of how the notes were to be. The sound was like the wind blowing by--if it made a sound, but I picked up and Dave joined in, stringing quietly and Raquel measuring the beats by pounding on the drums softly. Channing was singing the entire song by herself, and luckily for me, I was the echo.

_I got a pocket, got a pocketful of sunshine_

_I got a love and I know that it's all mine _

_Oh, whoa oh_

_Do what you want, but you're never gonna break me_

_Sticks and stones are never gonna shake me_

_No, whoa, no_

Now Raquel jammed on the drums as Channing sang the chorus, Dave stringing the guitar wildly as I stopped playing the piano, echoing after Channing, my fingers on the microphone's stand as I tried to hold my voice so I could at least be heard.

_Take me away (take me away), a secret place (a secret place) _

_A sweet escape (a sweet escape)_

_Take me away (take me away!), a higher place (a higher place) _

As she was singing, her face glowed and I nodded along, my fingers tapping on the piano keys at the slower parts. My voice rang in to the song as the last verse was for both of us to say quietly and the rest of the band also joined in.

_The sun is on my side_

_Take me for a ride_

_I smile up to the sky_

_I know I'll be alright_

The highest note on the piano played and my four fingers raced up the scale and tapped onto the last note. The crowd cheered and clapped , my face beaming as the spotlight spun around the room. I turned around to high-five Channing, who passed it on to Dave and Raquel, who was more than happy to kiss Channing on the cheek.

"Ready, Vasanti?" Dave smirked.

I was pumped with adrenaline from that song and now I was to sing a slow song with loads of emotion

"I guess," I sighed, closing my eyes.

"Don't worry," we're your background singers; we'll pick up if you lose it," Dave patted me on the back. "You're the one who chose this song--perform it like never before."

I rolled my eyes, waiting until Raquel tapped his drumsticks and Channing played the introduction with her violin and Dave strung his guitar quietly and Raquel's foot tapped for the beat. Channing's head swayed as her bow flew up and down slowly. Dave's head hung low and I took a deep breath, adjusting the microphone once again before my voice starting to sing to it, making sure that it had enough emotion in it.

_I can take the rain on the roof of this empty house, that don't bother me_

_I can take a few tears now and then and just let them out_

_I'm not afraid to cry, every once in a while _

_Even though, going on with you gone, still upsets me _

_There are days every now, and again, I pretend I'm okay, but that's not what gets me_

My hands outstretched towards the piano as I finished the verse, ready to rock as the chorus was about to explode. My voice ready to cry to the world as my hands pressed against the keys.

_What hurts the most, was being so close_

_And having so much to say, and watching you walk away _

_Never knowing, what could have been_

_And not seeing that loving you, is what I was trying to do_

But with my singing and piano playing, I didn't expect the flood of memories and heartfelt feelings to come rushing back to haunt me. Before I could stop it, tears ran down my cheeks, making my eyes glisten in the spotlight. The tears were just _there_ and didn't seem to affect my singing or playing _at all_.

Every memory was faint, as if I'd been gone a long time and I needed them refreshed. I couldn't remember how Nathan's lips felt on mine, what he smelled like, how his jacket felt like, slung over my shoulders, and his hands clutching my bleeding hand. The only thing that I remembered of Nathan was they way his scar seemed to disappear when he smiled, lighting everything around him up.

_Not seeing that loving you _

_Is what I . . . was trying . . . to . . . do_

The crowd shrieked, people standing up to clap and whistle. I couldn't believe that I had just cried to a live crowd and whoever was going to watch the tape that Dimitri and Rachel had taped.

"Honey," Channing cried, pulling me into a hug. "Are you okay?"

"I think so," I whispered, my lips quivering. "They just . . . came."

"It's only natural, Vasanti," Dave said, patting me on the back. "And you are a natural."

I bowed to the audience for a last time, my eyes still gleaming as I blew kisses. The curtain closed and suddenly, we were _all_ in tears as we said our goodbyes. Dave handed me a digital card with the words Rock'N Rolling flashing and all their numbers on it. The new kind of business card that slipped into your skin. I slapped the business card together and slipped it into my ankle, disappearing into my skin. I pressed my lips to my fingers and pressed it onto his forehead, giving him a big hug as his arms wrapped around me.

"I'll miss you," I whispered.

"We'll _all_ miss you."

And it was true. I could see it in his eyes as I moved onto hug Channing, the look in his eyes filled with pain. Smiling at him, I tried to comfort him with a smile that could only be pulled off when I was around him.

***

Holding onto a handful of bouquets, I stared at them, my eyes confused.

"It was a single performance," I muttered to Rachel. "It's not a big deal."

"Yes it is," Rachel rolled her eyes, making me sit down. "You need positive reinforcement."

"Actually, I think that was my first and last performance," I whispered.

"I'm not so sure about that," Valerie smiled, lighting up the bar. "Everyone _adores_ your voice."

"Thank you," I cooed, leaning over to hug her.

"So, Vasanti," Peter questioned "have you met anyone who _you_ adore? Nathan would love to hear your updates."

Pain tugged at my chest and I looked away as I felt a twist of emotions change the way I had expressed the pain.

"Don't take it--" Peter started to say.

I backed out of my chair and turned around, dashing out the door as I felt freezing cold tears streaming down my face and slamming onto the ground.

"Vasanti!" Dimitri and Rachel yelled out after me.

I disappeared as I ran out the door and searched for a bathroom. Sniffling, I wiped the tears away as I paused at a door and pushed on it, revealing a private bathroom for me to hide in. The clean-white walls sprung out at me as I closed and locked the wooden door, sinking onto the ground and sobbing. Of course, Nathan would want to know how miserable I was! So now, Peter could tell Nathan that I was having the time of my life, crying in a hotel bathroom.

I leaned over the sink, the marble setting hovering over the ground and the large mirror placed right in front of it, attached to the wall. After splashing water on my face, I could still see the splotches of red under my eyes as the frozen tears could still be felt on my cheeks, melting as they came in contact with my flushed skin. I ran my hands under the water, running my hand in front of the paper towel dispenser and ripping out the paper towels to wipe my hands with. But I stopped to stare at my hand, the gash that I'd gotten when I sliced my hand on the glass at Nathan's house.

I bit my lip, the memory of his warm hands caressing mine seeming to take over my senses. A tear descended down my cheek and slowly flew through the air as gravity pulled it down, the ice gleaming as it seemed to twirl and pirouette. A hand suddenly flew from under and caught the gleaming tear, letting it melt on the person's skin. My head flew up and my gaze fell upon the person through the mirror, gasping.

"Is something bothering you?" he whispered, smiling. "It would be a pleasure to be of assistance."

I snapped around and pushed off the sink, wrapping my arms around him and setting my head on his shoulder. I sniffled, trying to hold the tears that streamed onto his suit.

"Nathan," I cried, all the pain that I felt, drifting away as if he had taken it away.

He hesitated for a second, but eventually circled his arms around me, his lips pressed to my hair. I could smell the sweet scent of the clouds that I loved, knowing the air that I breathed was sweet and pure.

"I guess _this_ is how you've been," Nathan said, pulling away from me.

I stared at him as I clasped my hands around him, not wanting to ever let go. His face was still pure and handsome, and I didn't care to look at the scar, I just wanted to see his eyes, for him to tell me that he loved me. All the memories that I had forgotten were now back and I knew that I would never forget anymore, the memories would always be here, and so would Nathan.

"I love you, Nathan," I whispered. "I've always known that I'd fall for you."

Nathan pushed me away and looked away, shaking his head.

"No, Vasanti," Nathan whispered. "I came here to tell you that--we can't be together--ever."

I sighed, pushing him away as I tried to soak in his words, but it was all scrambled, and I couldn't understand the meaning. Pain streaked across my face and anger burned from within.

"No!" I cried. "You cant!"

"I-I don't love you," Nathan whispered. "I'm with Tracy now."

I felt as if flames were about to shoot from my hands, but really, ice just swirled around my body. Seeing the fright and worry smeared on his face, it finally hit me, making me suddenly realize how dangerous I really was and how much he _wanted_ to love me.

"You want her because she she can't hurt you," I whispered, wiping the corners of my eyes. "Not like I can. Because she can give you what you want."

"No--I'm here--"

"_Why_, Nathan? Why, then?!" I screamed. "Why are you here? You know that I'm _trying_ to get you over with--why are you here if you know I just might not come back to New york because of you!"

"Vasanti, please--"

"Nathan, you were the first," I whispered. "The first to see that I was more than a spoiled New Yorkian More than Myself. You were the first to show me that I could change the world."

I turned around to press my lips to his, giving a last kiss goodbye as tears streamed to my hair as he leaned down on me. his hands around my waist as he pushed me down. He backed away after a few seconds, surely, this was harder than he thought.

"I wish that I could be the prince to your fairytale, but I'm not," Nathan whispered, trying to contain himself.

I bit my lip to contain the tears, the emotions still stained on my face as my cheeks lifted up into an unconvincing smile.

"Smile like you mean it," Nathan smiled, making my heart leap. "It always helps."

He pressed his lips to my forehead, and I wrapped my arms around him into an embrace, wanting to hold onto him forever. But with a blink of an eye, he was torn away from me, and he was gone.

I fell onto the floor, my arms and face slamming to the ground as his weight disappeared, leaving me alone—lost forever through his love. I backed myself into the corner of the bathroom and curled into a ball as my knees were circled by my arms, my face leaning on my knees as they tears poured like a faucet.

He had abandoned me, left me without a shield. A sneak attack. He was gone.

"Are you okay?" Richard called, standing up from his sitting position next to the door. "I heard you crying . . ."

"I'm fine . . . I guess," I muttered.

I looked up at him and smiled brightly at his choice of clothes—a pair of jeans and a clingy t-shirt, showing his 6 packs.

"Would you like a drink?"

"Sure," I agreed. "Why not?"

"Excellent," he beamed.

We sat on stools in front of the bar, and I let Richard order us anything as I set an elbow on the table, listening to a person perform with her guitar slung over her shoulder. There goes our next Taylor Swift.

I sipped the red liquid, the sweet-acidic taste swishing down my throat pleasantly. He watched me drink as he smiled, his white teeth gleaming by the red and green lights that hung from the bar's top.

"What's the dilemma?" Richard asked, setting his drink down.

"Hmm?" I mumbled.

"You're not your usual self," Richard smirked.

My eyebrows rose, suspicion in my eyes.

"Have you been stalking me?"

"As a matter of fact, I've been _watching_ you," he laughed. "So—what's the problem?"

I couldn't tell anyone about what Nathan I had, it would hurt his career even more than ever.

"Nothing much," I answered. "It's been kind-of a short few weeks and it's nearly time for me to go home."

"Well—you don't need to go—you can just stay for another week," Richard suggested.

"No—I _have_ to go," I snapped. "I made a promise. It's not right to run away from my fears."

"That's the reason you left," he said, scooting closer to me as I slurped the drink. " You couldn't choose."

"It's not that I _couldn't_ choose," I bit my lip, staring at Richard. "I _can't_. It would _kill_ me to do that."

I gazed into his blue eyes, an ocean zone as I looked deeper.

"You need to choose," Richard said, his voice seeming to be distant as his eyes changed colors "me."

I gasped as his lips pressed to mine, a spark immediately about to explode, but my body betrayed me as I pressed closer to him, my eyes flipping as the dark blue eyes changed to a hazel-gold, the pressure on my lips morphing into a familiar feel And as we kissed, I could smell the cloudy scent that lingered on his lips—it was Nathan.

I smiled, but stopped myself before I went too far, snapping out of my daydream. Richard stood in front of me, just as surprised as I was, and I gasped. No matter what, I had compared Richard to Nathan, and I could even smell, feel, see—love him again. Which hurt, because I _needed_ to forget.

"What was _that_?" I cried, standing up.

He had a spark. He had a _power_. He smirked at me and I scoffed. Unbelievable how did I _not_ know before?

"You have—"

"I have the power to see and feel what you see and feel," he explained. "Only by physical contact."

"What was the kiss for?" I repeated, feeling a draft as Dimitri and Rachel hovered unseen behind me.

"I know what you saw," he whispered.

I wriggled my fingers as a small blazing feeling came from my fingers, my face twisted in disbelief.

"I'm sorry, Richard," I sighed. "I'm just not—into you like _that_."

"I understand," he smiled.

A load was taken off of my shoulders as he said this and a smile spread on my face. My heart stopped, the urge to break out of my chest and scream and wail, slowing down.

"You do?" I asked.

Rachel spat on the floor at him.

"Yeah," he shrugged, taking a drink out of his orange glass. "You're into older men."

I felt as if I was being slapped in the face by him, the anger sprouting form my fingers. Did he mean that _Nathan_ was a perverted Senator? He didn't know Nathan _at all_ and I would not let him talk about Nathan like that.

"What?" I screamed out, a blue mist circling around my fingers as I grabbed him by the collar of his shirt.

I pinned him on the counter, his shoulder slamming against a glass cup. Leaning against him, my breathing cold and angry on his face, my eyes narrowing at him, the danger built up in my body. My hand traced up to his throat, gripping it slightly, wanting to murder him.

"You. Bastard!" I growled, my lips turning a dangerous blue as the ice consumed it entirely. "Don't underestimate the potential of ice within a woman."

I squeezed on the hand which held his fragile throat that was about to turn to ice and smirked hauntingly as the music in the background stopped and everyone went silent, a few murmurs and scared whispers as I narrowed my eyes.

Two pairs of strong hands grabbed me by the shoulders and yanked me away—and I let them. Rachel and Dimitri dragged me out of the bar as a few people ran over to Richard's bleeding shoulder.

Peter and Valerie ran out right on our heels and I contained the ice that still lingered in my blood. My hand curled into a fist, the white skin and blue color of the ice decreasing as the ice layered me skin when I wriggled my fingers.

Tears rimmed my eyes as Rachel and Dimitri set me down in the hall, setting my duffel bag next to me as I cried silently to myself.

"Is she going to be okay?" Valerie asked, wrapping an arm around Dimitri.

"She'll be fine," Rachel whispered, patting me on the back. "We've got to leave now, but I'll call your cell if anything comes up."

Yeah, I needed to turn on my phone for once.

I nodded, standing up to throw my duffel bag over my shoulder, waving to Peter and Rachel as they pushed through the doors and disappeared through the night.

Dimitri and Valerie followed behind me as we climbed into the elevator. My feet tapped impatiently as the elevator brought us to the 5th floor, and when the door flew open, I dashed out frantically. I slid my card through the scanner and and slammed the door shut, a relieved sigh escaping my mouth as I slumped into the bed.

I threw my bag into the dresser, the mechanic whirring of sorting coming from inside it.

My head slammed against the pillow and a flood of thoughts and flashbacks rushed through my head, giving me proof that I wasn't dreaming these last few hours.

By the end of my mental therapy of sorting out my thoughts and flashbacks, only a few thoughts raved through my had and still prodded at me painfully.

I wished I was born in a different time, a different place, so I wouldn't have to choose and hurt so many people I'd grown up with and the people I had a strong connection to.

But if I _was_ born in a different time, would the same conflict always come up? Would I never be able to escape this . . . choosing—no matter what?

Freezing cold tears ran down my cheeks, sliding onto the pillow and disappearing as it came contact with the warm pillow. I closed my eyes, trying to stop the overflow of tears as my body gave into the hint that I was just a at a fashion show, and my feet and face were sore.

But another thing was sore too. My heart was being used, thrown around, and played with—too much.

**~End of Chapter Twelve~**

**i kno, totally horible, right? **

**well, REVIEW ANYWAYS!!**


	13. Battlefield

**OKAY OKAYOKAY THIS IS MY FAVORITE CHAPTER OF ALL TIME PLEASE MAKE SURE YOU HAVE LOTS OF TIME ON YOU!IT'S PRETTY LONG!**

**_i have lots of things to tell you_ first of all, this is chapter 13 (no really?)MY FAVORITE NUMBER! **

**and this is the CLIMAX that everyone has been waiting for .. and I've been trying to make it as awesome as ever ... **

**NOTES: **

**KIT VLADESCU---his last name is not mine-it's from the book: Jessica's Guide to Dating on the Dark Side **

**Dr. Adraithan portrays a charactor SIMILARto Dr. Carlisle Cullen, but I didn't want to change it into a cross-over, so I just slid him in, but Dr. Adraithan is NOT in any way Dr. CARLISLE CULLEN! he was just my inspiration and Dr. Adraithan is acutally a charactor in one of my books i'm writing in my free time **

**READ AND REVIEW**

**REVIEW REVIEW!!**

**(P. inspiration for the chapter is the song BATTLEFIELD BY Jordin Sparks)**

**ENJOY!**

~Battlefield~

I loved the way the sun rose in the ease, but I never got to see it set in the west. I sighed as I stood on the balcony, snapping in my batteries for my phone as I stretched. I had just finished a hash brown and some eggs and I was now gulping down some orange juice from the refrigerator as I stared at the pool below me.

Giving last night a long thought, I had finally come to a conclusion . . . not really. I just felt good that it was over with. I closed the balcony door and threw the jug of orange juice into the garbage and combed my haystack hair before I brushed my teeth.

In the middle of brushing my teeth, my cellphone rang. _Great_ I put my batteries in for 5 seconds, and I already get a call.

"Hello?" I said tiredly.

"Vasanti, we've got trouble, _big_ trouble," Rachel cried frantically.

"What is it?" I whispered.

"A rumble," Rachel gasped. "Right _now_."

"_What_ ?" I cried out.

I dropped my toothbrush and gasped.

"Why?"

"They saw your video yesterday and started blaming each other―Nathan called it," Rachel muttered. "You've got to come, _now_."

"But I'm in Connecticut!"

"That's a good thing, because it's on the border of Connecticut and Massachusetts," Rachel explained. "We don't have time!"

"Why should I come anyways?"

"Because," Rachel paused, and I could see that it was hard to take in. "Whoever wins―the get their country back―along with . . . _you_."

I paused and shook my head―no―_I_ was supposed to choose! _Me! _How could they do this without telling me?!

"Fine," I growled. "I'll be there."

***

So, let's just say my taxi driver wasn't the _brightest_ of all. All taxi drivers are told a million things about driving, and I'm sure that they had to emphasize a million times that―_YOU SHOULDN'T TALK TO A PASSENGER IF SHE LOOKS LIKE SHE'S ABOUT TO KILL YOU_.

After I had changed into a white t-shirt with a vest, a plaid blue skirt, and leather boots that made a 'CLACK' when the hit the floor, I had the manager of the Blue Dragon hotel send my car and my suitcase to my house―for a few hundred dollars, of course. I decided that if I didn't have too much flashy jewelry, I'd have to wear all of my crests. I had straightened my hair, even though I knew that it wasn't healthy for me (my hair, my poor, beautiful hair!), and tied my _Neutral _crest onto it, and my _Villia_ wristband snapped around my wrist while my necklace dangled from my neck heavily.

But, going back to the taxi driver. When I stepped into his taxi, he gave me a look like I was a teenager (which I am!) who was sneaking out to go to the club for the night―and here's the ironic thing―_it was 9:00 P.M._

Everything that came out of his mouth ended in a question.

"So, what's a gorgeous girl like _you_ going to do in Massachusetts?" he muttered, looking at me as we sped down the highway. "The entire state is in _ruins_."

"A . . . showdown of some sort," I answered, trying to take the threat out of my voice.

"Ah, I've heard of these before," he chuckled, his long hair flying in my face. "Who are you betting on?"

He raked his eyes down to all my crests.

"You don't know _anything_ about rumbles," I grumbled, crossing my legs. "You people don't care for our kind. _Neutrals_ are the ones who will help the entire world understand our treacheries―the are _precious_ to us."

He was quiet then, and I sighed, laying my head down as I closed my eyes for a few minutes. My fingers tapped on the leather seats impatiently until I noticed how slow we were driving.

"Can you go any faster?" I cried. "_Way _faster."

"I'll get a ticket—"

"All police officers are to let all people in the rumble to go as fast as we can on the highway—anywhere, really," I whispered. "We have a device in our crest that let out lasers to police monitors. But if they _did_ pull us over―they'd . . . _know_."

I snapped my fingers, ice falling onto the ground and freezing one of the many empty bottles in the back seat. He smiled, slinging a single hand over the steering wheel and pressed on the gas as I stared out the window, my mind wandering to the rumble and who'd be there. Who would be their leader? Which group would be larger? _Who_ would fall? Why do we _die_ like this?

The answer never came, and I wished _so badly_ that I knew what was right, and what was wrong―because I knew I was about to slip into an abyss that I could never get out of.

What was the purpose of all of _this_?

_Power? Dignity? Selfishness? To show off? Or did they really believe that they could change the world? _

I jolted awake as a hand set on my leg, the taxi driver waking me up.

"We've arrived at the death camp," he said. "Do you want me to—"

I looked outside, everything was gray and _still_ covered in ashes and growing plants on the buildings. They were barely standing as they were starting to crumble. The sun shone brightly on the ashes, seeming to make it look like it was still on fire. The sun was going to be covered by clouds by the time they started.

The Colosseum was right in front of the rumble, and I needed to hurry—because I knew they started soon.

"Thanks," I muttered, handing him all the money I had on me (a thousand dollars or so), slamming the door shut and taking a deep breath before taking a sprint towards the Colosseum.

The taxi was now a small figure in the distance and I neared the Colosseum, needing to leap over many things that stood in my way. I sighed, peeking behind the Colosseum, bright flashes flinging from every place possible, T.V. Reporters with cameras surrounding the outer edge, asking questions.

I could hear they chatter filling the air as the stiff clans stared at each other from the 2 sides, a large invisible white line seeming to be drawn between them and separated. _Just like in my dream_. Nobody dared to step across the line as their crests gleamed―rings, bracelets, headbands, anklets―their faces hard an intimidating, it nearly made me want to cower in fear.

The _Solitudes_ were on the farther side and the _Villias_ were the ones facing them. The _Solitudes_ had more people than the _Villias; _it was weird that they had grouped into couples . . . they were . . . well . . . _SOLITUDES_! They had _at least_ 600 people on their side, while the _Villias_ were stuck with a little over 450 people. But there weren't just teens and adults―there were also a few elders who were in the same―if not better shape than anyone here.

We needed _major_ back-up; we were going to lose our country, and _I_ would lose Sylar.

I could make out most of the people here, their _Solitude_ faces too familiar to ignore.

Micah Sanders, who could talk to any type of machines, he had curly black hair and his skin was a dark color. I found it hard to believe he was only 11 years old and could be so good at controlling his power around our ever-changing world. D.L. Hawkins, who was Micah's dad, had to power to walk through walls, or reach _inside_ anything (Yes! Even your body!).

Daphne Millbrook was in her adult years, she had pixie-cut white hair and she had the power of speed (as if she couldn't be cute enough!) Sylar had let her go after taking her power and she seemed to be recovering . . . well . . . besides the cut on her temple.

Elle Bishop, who had long blonde hair and hazel eyes, she was small and cute, even though she was a bit older than me. With the ability of electricity―she was a _real_ pest.

Natasha Reigns, who's power was the most _interesting_ of all―could drain color. She could take your clothes and suck all the color out of it with a single touch. Whatever part of your body touched her, its color seemed to be sucked into her body. She had jet-black, almost blue hair and her beautiful blue eyes seemed to be bloodshot―all the time.

I was surprised that _Richard, _Dave, Channing, and Raquel weren't here. I felt better though―more people who didn't have to die―but of course, I nearly killed Richard, but it wasn't enough to satisfy my thirst for his blood to be spilled in front of me.

On the _Villia _side, the one person who caught my eye was Kit Vladescu, the 16 year old Russian boy who was _so_ hot, but of course, I was a bit old for him. He was the first person who Sylar had taken his power from―telekinesis. Kit was _lucky_ to be alive, because then, Kit was only 5 years old. His parents made a deal with Sylar, promising him to be a _Villia. _Kit was muscular looking and his dirty blond hair was always messy, but cute, his aqua blue eyes gleaming as he stared at the other side.

I sighed. If they _Solitudes_ had _this_ many people on their side, who knows what could happen?

Suddenly, in front of me, there were two figures, as if they'd appeared from t thin air. They turned around and gasped when they saw me.

"Basanti?" one said in an accent.

"_Hiro_ , for the last time, it's _Vasanti_ not _Basanti_," a voice called.

"Hiro?" I cried, stepping closer so I could see their faces. "Ando?"

"_Wow_ Vasanti, you've changed since the last time we met you . . . how long as it been?" Ando whispered.

"A year," I smiled. "Every _Villia_ was invited to my sweet 16 last year."

"Ah, yes, _huge_ party," Hiro nodded. "Lots of scary people there."

"Well . . . let's just say Sylar likes to befriend lots of scary people."

Hiro and Ando were Japanese and worked for Yamagato Industries, and Hiro's father owned the industries. Hiro Nakamura was an old friend of Sylar's and he had black hair and cool glasses to make him look nerdy―even though he was obsessed with his so called 'destiny.' Hiro has the ability to bend space and time, which means he could go into the past or the future and alter anything―which could be dangerous and change the future massively.

Ando Masahashi had the ability to be a battery of some sort. Just recently, Ando realized his potential―it was like he just woke up one day and _viola__―_it was there. We were _very_ lucky though―because they were _Villias_.

"Vasanti," Hiro gasped. "I'm sorry. I had to save . . . umm . . . _flying man_."

Hiro made a gesture like an airplane that had just taken off, fixing his glasses to look at my expression. I was confused.

"We need him in . . . future," Hiro sighed. "He good guy―not _v_illain."

"Hiro had to go back and forth at times," Ando explained. "It wasn't easy to get Nathan to eat . . ."

Hiro hit Ando in the arm and I started to get suspicious.

"That explains the long week," I grumbled.

"Are you . . . coming?" Ando questioned. "It's _your_ fight, you know."

"But I belong to neither side―not even the middle," I whispered. "But I'll be there when I feel I need to intercept."

"Yes, Vasanti," Hiro bowed. "It was nice knowing you."

He said it as if I was going to die or something.

They ran off, disappearing into a crowd of _Villias_ as I creeped back into the shadows, watching the reporters crowd all the _Solitude_ and _Villia_ celebrities from all around the world.

I could just barely make out what they were saying and asking everyone, but the one person who's reporter questions I was looking forwards to―was Nathan's. The interrogations seemed to be thrown out at him, never stopping.

"Senator Petrelli, you have no ability, what are you doing here?"

"Well, as you know, I have _no_ ability," Nathan answered calmly. "But it only seems fair that I stand here with my family as a leader."

"What do you have to say about your secret encounter with Miss Gray, as her instructor?"

"I have no comment," he said, chuckling. "But I have to say, there wasn't any _pleasure-seeking_ of _any kind_ involved, if that's what you're getting at―she _is_ a minor, you know. She has a very large potential with her ability―meaning―she has saved my life.

"Is it true that you are running for president soon?"

"I am considering it," Nathan scoffed. "Besides the fact that I have no known supporters or someone to stand by my side."

I laughed, of course _you_ do, Nathan―Tracy Strauss.

"Are you denying the idea of having Miss Gray as any members of your cabinet?"

"I believe that someone with strong_er_ opinions on politics should be in my cabinet―there fore, there must be others fit for the job―not only her," Nathan sighed―he was really getting grilled out there.

It seemed as if everyone who was invited, was here, because I could see some getting a little nervous―nervous about their deaths.

"So there's no other relationships you have at the moment?"

"Besides Miss Gray, of course."

"Miss Strauss has been seen around your _mother_ lately," a reporter threw a recorder into his face. "Would you care to explain? Is your mother planning for you to be acquainted with the 23 year old Secretary of Defense?"

_BINGO, that person was just 6 paragraphs too late. _

"_ENOUGH_ with my love life!" Nathan yelled, making everyone jump.

"So Miss Gray _has_ been a person you've fallen for?"

"That means you have two women in your life, is that true?"

"Who is the best _candidate_ for your_ position_?" A reporter said sarcastically.

"Will the age difference have an effect on you with Miss Gray?"

I rolled my eyes―what did the age difference have to do with a relationship? So _what_ if Peter Facinelli decided to marry a crazy 14 year old?

Nathan smiled one last time as he stepped away, a loud voice booming for all reporters to stay inside the Colosseum while they 'settled a minor problem.' I searched for everyone I knew, especially Sylar.

How was he coping with the loss of Ashley? I saw Sylar's figure standing the closest to the line while the others backed up to listen to the two 'leaders' speak. Sylar's hair was in a messy way, his cheeks lined with a certain stubble, meaning he didn't care to have time for himself. He was so lost without Ashley—she was the music of his soul, the sparkle in his eyes. Now that _I killed _her, it was all stripped away from his life.

He was wearing a gray t-shirt that showed his scary, muscular side and a pair of jeans which chucks. His face was blank, but his lips pressed in an eerie thin line, his eyes gleaming with hunger for all of these powers that laid in front of him—a feast.

Nathan stood like a fearless leader in front of the _Solitude_ group, his hands crossed and his hair slicked back, and wearing a dark, navy-blue suit with a red and black tie. They were so different—yet—they had the edge of sadness to their eyes because they knew that they had the possibility to lose today.

"We are all here to get back what is rightfully ours," Nathan boomed. "Everyone must know the rules: no weapons can be used, only our powers and minds."

"And I believe we may start . . . _now_," Sylar's voice interrupted, rough and warning.

It was silent for so many minutes after that as everyone stared at each other, their crests gleaming and eyes narrowing to see which side would throw the first punch. I noticed that all the _Neutrals_ were in the back, protected from any harm, because they were the most fragile.

My eyes caught a glimpse of Tracy, in the front and I rolled my eyes. She wore a halter top and jean shorts, her eyes on Nathan as she waited for an attack, her _Solitude_ crest circling around her arm. What made her _sky_ power so special that she could protect him?

I looked at the front row _again_, then realized there were _children_ in the front, their eyes hungry for adventure. How could their parents allow their children to come? This was a suicide mission! They were at _least_ 6 years of age, and they were _Solitudes_ and _Villias_! Why the irrational decision to choose sides so quickly? But I knew something—nobody would dare attack them, because their parents were hovering right behind the children, about to pounce.

A shriek filled the air and nobody moved as a person on the _Solitude_ side quickly sank to the floor, their eyes coated in bloody tears. It had to be _Maya's_ doing. I _loved_ her ability.

599 to go.

In a matter of seconds, 2 _Villias_ lay on the ground after another 5 _Solitudes_ lay limp. It was interesting to see how many people could manipulate with a look in the eyes.

Dimitri stood still, staring at someone on the _Villia_ side, as Valerie stood in the back, looking out at the other side. Dimitri was staring at . . . Dr. Adraithan . . . who stood behind Sylar, his lab coat still on, his suit and tie seemed to be wind-blown, as if he _ran_ all the way here.

His gleaming blonde hair was combed to the side and his topaz eyes turned into a ghastly stare as Dimitri caught his eyes. Dr. Adraithan was a _Villia_ and I never understood why, because he didn't seem to hold any powers of any kind.

Dr. Adraithan's wife, Elizabeth, had golden brown hair and had the same awkward eyes as Dr. Adraithan, her arms crossed in front of her as a worried smile crossed her face, trying to be confident.

"Screw this!" Dimitri yelled, jumping and managing to fly nearly ten feet and land in front of Dr. Adraithan. "You're going down, Carlisle!"

Dr. Adraithan swiftly dodged Dimitri's punch and grabbed him by the throat, throwing him against an old house and crumbling down on him.

"Don't underestimate the power of a 147 year old vampire," Dr. Adraithan smirked. "Dimitri, you're only 40 years old, you need time to mature."

_VAMPIRE? Holy crap!_

_How did I not know that? My doctor was a Villia VAMPIRE? Wow, loads of secrets that I just loved to be uncovered. Dimitri? A Solitude VAMPIRE? Too much for me to grasp. _

Well then, I guess if we had extraordinary powers like we did, there could be mythical creatures too . . . whatever.

Everyone cried out, running towards each other as clouds started to cover the sky, reaping over everyone immediately.

"Liz," I muttered. "She must have seen Liam."

The sound of punches filled the air as everyone went against each other, not daring at all to go near the _Neutrals_. I hope Samuels was watching over Mia.

But as the chaos went on, Nathan and Sylar stood on their lines, still staring at each other as more people began to fall on the ground and I couldn't take it anymore. Liz and Liam were avoiding each other, but sooner or later, they'd have to face each other. Sarah was having a hard time protecting Dal and all the other _Neutrals_. Dimitri and Carlisle were at each others throats, and Val and Elizabeth were arguing at each other.

Didn't they know? They were acting like mere children!

I started to step forward, to tell everyone to shut up and get back in their lines, but Hiro appeared in front of me, opening his arms so I couldn't past, and I looked beyond him to see another Hiro fighting.

So, was he from the future? Or the past? Was I reliving my boring moments of 8th grade? Reading 'A Christmas Carol?'

"You need to kill Kyra!" Hiro demanded. "Or she will be the one responsible for Nathan's death!"

When he finally disappeared, I shook his words out of my head, saving them for later, when a hand grabbed me by the throat and slammed me against the Colosseum walls. It was unusual to have people so far away from the rumble, but when I opened my eyes, I understood. Anna and Ursula.

"You killed Jeremy!" Anna cried, slamming my head on the wall.

"Yeah, sure, I know that," I laughed. "What else is new?"

"You. Need. To. Pay!" Anna shrieked.

"Cash or check?," I rolled my eyes, kicking off of her body and flipping over, using the wall as a support as I leaped over them. "Do you take bruises?"

But, as stupid as I was, I looked over to Ursula, and I was gone. All I could see now was me and what they were doing. Anna ran around me, slamming me into the wall, punching me in the gut as she laughed with Ursula, who swished something in her hand before her hand hit me in the rubs, a numbing pain exploding.

"It'll take a while to consume her body," Ursula cackled. "But it'll get the job done."

As their gazes tore away from me, their crunching of feet disappeared, and I stood up, backing away as a trickle of blood escaped from my mouth.

_Oh, shit_. I thought to myself. _Internal bleeding. Something I've always looked forward to. _

But I still felt as strong as ever, and my heels clapped on the ground as I jumped over all the dirt and hidden materials under the ashes. I felt thankful that nobody had killed a _Neutral_, only 40 or so _Villias_ and _Solitudes_.

As I neared the battlefield, everyone was now mobbing Sylar as he inched back to protect the _Neutrals_, throwing _Solitudes_ away from getting their hands on the _Neutrals_. All I could hear wasn't even human to my ears, everything was a scream, yell, shout, grunting, and fists being thrown in the air.

Everyone was doing something, and too busy to look over at me.

Nathan flew through the sky, protecting his side of _Neutrals_ as he knocked down _Villias_ by running into them while flying, picking them up and dropping them from the sky, their bodies landing on the ground with a small thump—but hard enough so they wouldn't get up again. He had exposed himself and it must have been important to him, because nothing could get in the way of him and his brothers, not even the prying eyes of the media. He was helping his 15 brothers that were here (out of a million).

All reporters' cameras were now on Nathan, recording and taping everything from above. To them, it was an entertaining game that they could post up and show the world a 'historic' event.

Kyra . . . Kyra . . .

The blond girl at school who was a big bitch? One of the _Neutral_ cheerleaders who thought their nails were their full image. Everyone was going for the leaders first, and as I disappeared into the fighting crowds, I pushed whoever touched me away, making sure I gave them a good, needed punch.

There were crowds around the leaders, a few now and then flying out, screaming. But around Sylar, 10 at a time, bodies fell onto the ground, their heads sliced open and Sylar's hands and shirt now drenched with fresh blood that dripped down to his pants and shoes.

I caught his eyes as I passed him, and he grabbed my attention and didn't let me move for over a minute before remorse filled his eyes and he looked away. I was his weakness, and he couldn't let them know that.

There were a few bodies I almost tripped over, but I managed to catch myself as I jumped to Samuel's side, no problems so far because Sylar was fighting them off. Over 150 _Villia_-_Neutrals_ were being surrounded with _Villias_ who were trying to protect them as best as they could.

"Vasanti," Samuels whispered. "You're back."

"I said I'd be back," I smiled at Samuels. "Where's Mia?"

"Our orders were to let some _Neutrals_ fight with us, even with the risks," Samuels explained. "They have a right to fight."

"Oh, no, Kyra," I muttered, punching someone who was coming towards Samuels.

I wiggled my fingers as I tried to run to the other side, which was a big circle as they mobbed Nathan, who was floating with Tracy at his heels, blasting ice.

_I KNEW IT! _

Even with the 1 out of 5.7 billion chance that someone could have the same power as you, I find it in my worst enemy—TRACY!

She was ice and I was water, but _SAME THING_! I was so angry that I nearly had a psychopathic rampage, but I just squinted my eyes, trying to think as bodies fell next to me.

"Vasanti," Peter said behind me.

"Peter!" I cried out, relieved. "Have any _Neutrals_ died yet?"

"Luckily, no," a voice beside him said, who looked like peter, but a bit older. "Do you want to be the first to kill a _Solitude-Neutral_?"

Andrew Petrelli, the one with the long, black-dyed hair and gold eyes.

"I just might have to," I whispered, lifting my leg up to knock out a solitude to my side. "Ooh, sorry." I winced at Andrew and Peter. "Someone's going to kill Nathan. She thinks that he's a disgrace to the _Solitude_ name."

"Kyra," Peter whispered. "Must be her."

I grabbed Peter by the collar and pulled him towards me as Rachel rushed over to us.

"You _lied_ to me," I muttered, and this was directed to _all_ Petrellis in the world. "Tracy has the ability of _ice_. How do you _explain that_?"

"Mom knew you'd do this if you found out, so she kept it a secret," Peter sighed.

I let go of him and spat out a threat to him.

"What are you going to do about Kyra?" Andrew asked, turning to Peter.

"I don't want to do this," I mumbled. "But _you__―_" I pointed to Rachel. "―if I kill Kyra, you _make_ everyone go back to their side of the line―and I will―"

"_DAL_ !" Sarah's desperate scream split the air.

"Sarah, you must stay here and protect the remaining _Neutrals_," Samuels whispered.

"Nice meeting you, Andrew," I smiled at him. "But I've got a friend in distress."

I ran towards Dal, who _didn't_ have his crest on, so he was being beat up by _Solitudes_, lucky day for him! Daphne ran past Dal, making him tumble as D.L.'s victims lay on the ground, their brains ripped out from a single hand. It was weird how a few punches could throw so much into a person, but it worked, knocking 4 people surrounding Dal out.

I grabbed Dal by the arm and pulled him towards Sarah, huffing.

"Stay _here_," I growled. "There's no use being a hero if you're _dead_."

He flipped his black hair and wiped the blood from his lip before being consumed into the circle of _Neutrals_.

Knocking out a _Solitude,_ I smiled, Sanasha was going to kill me _sooner or later. _I looked over to Liz, who made lighting strike whoever laid a hand on her. This wasn't the Liz I knew. She was the one to stand back and use her powers when necessary―defensive--not offensive.

I fought off some of the people who were attacking Liz―she was older than me, but I had to help her―the gross smell of burning flesh filled the air and I winced as she kept it going. I randomly ran into Elizabeth and Valerie as I was fighting―for my friends―and nobody else. They were still fighting, and I groaned, pushing them away from each other.

"_Stop_ !" I cried. "What are you doing?"

They stared at me.

"You're fighting against your own vampire species!" I screamed. "You can't have _children_, right? Why argue with a person with the same issues as you do? Both of you can't stand this blood sprawled here―but you _are_ standing it. _Can't_ anyone_ live with their differences_?"

"Vasanti," Mia huffed, out of air as she spun around to throw punches, her hair flying all over the place.

"Mia," I gasped. "Thank goodness you're okay."

"Umm . . . yeah," Mia smiled, throwing a good kick to the groin.

I ducked and grabbed the arm that started towards Mia, twisting it and kicking the person in the neck, the body crashing to the ground.

"Kyra? What are you doing?"

Nathan's voice was the one I could decipher better than any of the garbled voices.

_Oh, no. _I needed to get Nathan, but he was nearly half a mile away, and running wasn't my best quality. Hiro turned his head through the entire crowd so I could see him, and a sly smile played on his face before he disappeared and then appeared beside me. He grabbed my arm and suddenly, I was standing in the crowd that surrounded Nathan and Hiro was gone.

_Damn, that ninja was sneaky! _

Kyra was holding Nathan down and feeling him up, her body smiling at Nathan―and we didn't need that at a rumble. I pushed away all the buff _Villias_ and they finally made a path for me after a had to sting them with my icy finger. I was finally in the middle, and the clouds suddenly made the rumble sky seem like it was nearly twilight. The _Villias_ all took a step back―Rachel's doing, and I stepped through the opening.

But through her skanky cheerleading outfit, was an imprint of a blade in her dress, its blade gleaming as she pressed a finger to Nathan's lips. I could tell Tracy was about to lose it and I threw myself at her, and Nathan flew up, about to attack, but my head snapped up to look at him and he stopped, floating above me.

I flipped my hair and took the knife out of Kyra's hand, throwing it to the ground beneath Nathan.

Everyone gasped and I shook my head at her, grabbing her shoulder and immediately, she froze in my arms, anger building up in me and my fist slamming against her frozen chest, shattering her sculpture into pieces on the white line.

When I stood up, everyone stared at me from each side, their bodies still and standing as the entire drawn line keeping them apart, was free of dead bodies―only Kyra's. A _Neutral_. I didn't know how and why I did it, but like Hiro said . . . I had to.

I stood up, looking at my hands as I stared at everyone, even Peter and Rachel stared, already knowing that I was going to kill her. All the Petrellis gaped at me, Nathan's face streaked with the same scared and disgusted expression.

A few murmurs and gasping rung out, Zhenn, Kyra's _Solitude_ boyfriend―jumped up, his blonde hair bouncing and his blue eyes filled with hatred. He lunged towards me, and a few people held him back, shushing him as I spun around at all the people who witnessed, looking away from all their questionable looks.

"This is what _I am_, Nathan," I whispered. "I'm meant to be evil. _To kill_. It's in my blood. I'm a Gray."

"_So_?" Someone called out from the Villia side.

A punched silenced him, and he groaned.

"But you! _All of you_!" I yelled, tears running down my cheeks. "You're here because it's _fun_! It's a game where you screw around with people's hearts and minds! Look at what happens to them when you do so!" I pointed to Liz and Liam who refused to look at each other. " The ones we _love_ the most." My finger fell upon the children in the front of all the lines. "Our children! Brothers!"

"Our sisters," Sylar smiled at me and I shook my head. "Who have been offered_ all crests_."

I looked at Sylar, biting my lip, knowing that _my_ moment of truth was coming near.

"Icebeam."

I heard someone's gruff voice call; and it sure as hell wasn't Sylar's voice. My head snapped up towards the calling―the _Solitude_ line, and a path formed as a group of people parted, one person stepping through.

Everyone on the _Solitude_ side seemed to know who he was, and _only_ the _Solitudes_. I laughed through the tears that poured as I gave it a long thought about the possibilities of this coming true.

Everyone knew.

_Nathan. _

_Rachel. _

_Peter_

_Dimitri. _

All the people I had trusted.

The word failed to pop into my mind, but it came out anyways.

"_Dad_?" I cried, my lips quivering.

"Vasanti, you've grown so much," he smiled.

He stepped towards me and I didn't back up or move at all. My father. More than 15 years fatherless, and now . . . I looked up at him with observant eyes filled with tears. My father's eyes looked next to _nothing_ like ours, maybe the blue in the dim light, but that was it. He had the dark brown hair, but not the gold like I had. He couldn't be much older than 37 . . . he was so . . . young.

I pursed my lips as I felt like a child who had lost her daddy in the supermarket for a few minutes, wandering . . . lost. I stepped closer to Jason, my eyes never leaving him as I sniffed. His muscled arms leaned down, and his hands cupped my crying face; I touched his face like a blind person, seeing the light for once, my hands tracing around his face before I threw my around him, coughing and crying at the same time, all the emotions that I never felt as a child coming back and spilling.

"Icebeam," he whispered, voice cracking. "I'm so proud of you."

"Me?" I asked, looking up at him.

"You see . . . Icebeam . . ." my father tried to explain. "I turned _Solitude_ after your mother . . . umm . . . _died_ and I . . . _here_."

He closed his eyes, and suddenly, he was gone, but I could still feel his touch on my hands.

"You . . . you took Nathan to the Blue Dragon . . . to see me?"

He nodded.

"Invisibility?" Sylar finally spoke up, stepping towards our father, who materialized and held my hand again. "How . . . interesting . . ."

"Ah, my son," Jason smiled, opening his arms. "You've raised your sister into a feisty beast."

"Hmm," Sylar grinned as he hugged my father.

I knew that look in his eyes, the yearning for power. I screamed and threw myself at My father, but Sylar threw me away with his unseen force, pinning me on the ground.

"No, Sylar!" I screamed. "_Please_!"

"I . . . I cant stop . . . myself!" he grunted, his hands around my father's throat.

"Icebeam," my father gasped, throwing me a locket that slid into my hands. "I love you."

I looked at the locket frantically, and noticed that it was filled so 3 pictures could fit in there. But I shook my head looking up.

Sylar's finger ran across my dad's head, screaming filling the air as everyone looked away.

"I love you too, daddy," I whispered.

My dad smiled, even though he was in major pain, and that was the last look my dad gave me before his eyes lost his beautiful color, turning . . . _gray, his body falling to the ground._ I screamed, thrashing at the ground, clutching the locket until it dug into my skin, the tears being able to create a stream as I saw the brain in Sylar's hands.

The force suddenly was lifted off of me and let me stand after Sylar had removed a specific place from the brain, throwing it onto the ground as if it was _trash_.

Anger burned and ached through me, but I dared not look at my father's body, because my stomach already lurched. I clutched onto the locket, rushing towards Sylar, looking up to his tall figure and glaring at him.

The echoing sound of my hand slapping against Sylar's cheek made everyone flinch, the anger driving the force.

"You _bastard_!" I screamed. "You. Killed. _Our. _Father!"

Sylar didn't do anything, he just stood there, looking miserable as I yelled at him and everyone around us hung their heads low, failing to look in my eyes.

I pulled Sylar forward so he stood on the line and punched him, good hand hard so a red blotch appeared on his cheek, his bloody hands clutched into a fist.

"How _could you_?" I cried, tears spilling and shattering on the ground beneath him.

"I couldn't . . . help myself . . ." he whispered, looking away.

I gasped and grabbed him by the throat, pinning him on the ground, blue ice consuming my arms as my icy tears splashed on his face.

"You. Couldn't. Help. Yourself?" I repeated icily. "How about all the people around you? Look at all the _Solitudes_ and tell me 'you couldn't help yourself!' But you _killed_ my father! Not _ours_! _Mine_! You are _not_ my brother!"

I heard a stifling of a gasp and cry from the _Villia_ side, and it sounded like Carlisle for a second . . . but . . . he would never . . . cry.

I slammed his head down on the gravel once before _Villias _pried me off of him, and Nathan pulled me away from the _Villia_ line.

"Let go of me!" I growled. "_Let me at him_!"

"Calm down, Vasanti," Nathan's voice whispered in my ear and I could sense betrayal in his voice.

"_Don't_ tell me what to do!" I screamed, shaking his hands off of me. "You _knew_, Nathan! You _knew!_ He was alive! Did he put you up with me?"

As everyone was busy screaming and freaking out over me, Zhenn broke out of his grasp, still thirsty for vengeance rushing towards me.

"You killed _Kyra_, you'll get what you _get_!" Zhenn cried, pointing a hand at me as dust and ashes swirled around me.

The ability to control _air_.

I threw my hands up and covered my eyes as the dirt, dust, ashes―everything that was here, in these ruins―swirled into my mouth, making me cough and fall backwards. The wind whipped at my skin, digging tinto the flesh and seeming to tear it open as I tried to scream, the dust suffocating as it closed in on me. It was as if a tornado was ripping through, but only for me, because I couldn't see _anything_ through the thickness of the tornado.

I tried to stand up, but just got thrown back and screamed. The scream wasn't a scream though, because there was a screeching, gurgling sound in my scream that made it sound like a lion dying.

"Choose the side that you are on," Zhenn cried out, but was more like a whisper to me.

This is what was driving Zhenn. Once I chose my side, he wanted to see the pain on my face of the person I didn't choose.

The wind stopped whipping and I coughed over and over as the fresh hair pushed out all the dirt and ashes that I had swallowed, along with a pint of blood. I could barely swallow, but I wanted to make sure that I got all of the materials out of my body and my throat.

"Choose!" he cried, blasting a powerful gust of wind to me, slamming me into a building as everyone flinched.

"Okay, o-okay!" I coughed, wiping blood away from my lips.

"Moment of truth," I heard someone whisper.

"But, I have some exceptions," I ordered. "Liz and Liam."

They stepped forward and tried to avoid each other, being loyal to their side. Liz was miserable without Liam, and I could see now that he had bruises on his arms and legs as he wore a t-shirt and khaki pants, Liz's baby doll dress and leggings nearly in tatters. They really _did_ fight violently.

"I want it to be legal that _they_ be able to have a relationship," I bit my lip.

I wanted to include my part into the orders, but that would me I chose the _Solitude_ side.

A few murmurs and gasps broke out at the vulgarity of the relationship.

"That's not possible," I heard someone whisper.

"They must abide by our rules!"

"So? Everyone has broken a rule once in a while, but _this_?" I whispered. "It will break their hearts. They will never be the same without each other."

Everyone's arguments overlapped each other, and then they started getting closer and closer to each others throats and I yelled out.

"Okay, _stop_!" I screamed. "Don't you see what I'm getting to?"

They looked at me as if they were waiting for me to say something else. I clutched my hands to my sides, the words killing me. I had promised Liz that I'd get Liam back to her, and it would be legal . . . now was the time to finish it.

"And they will not be forced to live in exile," I muttered. "And from now on, you will not make people choose—like I had to do. If they don't want to choose, they may live among any clan, not like I have to, where I won't be happy either way."

There was a silence, but Liz and Liam ran to each others arms, raindrops pattering on my head. And as I stared at the two, so joyful as Liam twirled her around, his smile making her day, I imagined that it was Nathan and I, when we didn't have these kinds of problems in our way. I imagined that he'd fly me through the sky while his lips pressed against my forehead, and we'd smile every time we looked at each other.

I felt lucky that it was raining, because nobody knew that I was really crying.

"Choose! Choose! Choose!" people from both sides chanted.

I detected smiles in their changing because they _enjoyed this_. It was a game, where they made lives worse, one by one. _Both_ sides were cheering, meaning they enjoyed the_ same _things―destroying lives―meaning that they weren't really that different.

"Our notion was wrong," I whispered, and everyone seemed to hear me as they went silent. "Over the past few weeks to a month, I've been able to experience what it's like to be a _Neutral _and a _Solitude_. In _every_ group I've been with, it's been no different than I've ever been at home. No matter which group we're in, what _power_ we have, how _much_ or _little_ money we have, _who_ we love―there will always be a person on the other side who cares and thinks that your ideas count also.

"Can't you see? _We're all the same_! Nothing else matters when we're together―but when we split up, we seem to want _power_ over the other side―why don't we just _choose_ to come together, and spare all the bloodshed?

"I'll choose, but _you all _think about it―is this _really_ worth your pride? Your entertainment? Are these_ innocent lives _worth being taken away by a feud?"

I had red splotches under my eyes from crying, and I sniffled.

"You will _never_ understand what it's like to have to choose, because you _know_ who you hate, and you _know_ who you can trust," I shook my head. "You don't know what it's like to have a family who keeps secrets and thinks that it's for your own good. You don't know what it's like to love someone who can never love you back―just because they're on another side. And you don't know what it's like . . . to feel so alone. I want you to think―who will I choose?―and after I've chosen, re-think―have I made the biggest mistake in my life?―or this is the _best thing _that I've done for my country, and I'll live a happy life eating truffles?"

They were hypnotized by my speech that I had run across my mind, every single feeling inside of me was thrown out at them, and they listened―like they had never heard anything like this in their life.

"Because Sylar is all I have left of my family," I cried. "And Nathan is the one—who's always there for me, and I could always count on him to be there."

And I ran. My mind was already made up, but I ran because I didn't want to leave him. My body slammed into Nathan's and he held me for what felt like an eternity―and I wished that it was, because I was_ so in love with him_. His hands circled around my waist and my head rested on his chest, his heartbeat the most beautiful thing I had ever heard in my life. My sobs and cries ripped through the air, and I didn't care that there were over lookers.

"Nathan . . . I . . ." I started

He kissed me, and I closed my eyes, not wanting to see the betrayal in my eyes as my heart felt as if it were going to explode. Because this time, he didn't hold anything back, he gave me everything I had ever wanted in that kiss, and his scent was still the same one I loved and wanted to devour, but this one―it had an edge to it.

I winced, my heart was shattering, a knife to the heart. I pulled away as tears fell more, turning to ice and shattering. I pursed my lips, I stared straight into Nathan's eyes as my heart ached even more as I could see how happy he was when he was here―with me. I thought I knew myself to make the right choice, but it turned out, I still had a lot to learn about myself.

"I'm sorry," I cried, tearing our embrace apart into pieces as I ran past the line—into Villia territory.

Sylar's eyes burned with the edge of betrayal, but as I inched closer to the _Villia_ line, his eyes were soft and he stared at me like a brother should.

A change of air pressure suddenly changed of some sort, and I could feel the moisture disappear from the air, suffocating me as a feeling that came to my throat―closed. Blood seemed to be pumping as fast is it could through my body, traveling to my brain, but not arriving back, like it did when . . . _I had an allergic reaction. _

_Almonds. Where . . . who had almonds? Nathan . . . Nathan . . . _

Hiro said that it was hard to get Nathan to . . . eat . . ._ almonds. _

_OhMyGod,_ I was dead meat.

I cleared my throat, trying to push the air into my body so I could at least breathe, but it wouldn't go through, it was like someone had lodged a pebble into my throat so I would have to choke to death before someone had to reach inside and grab it. The pit of my stomach made the weird numbing pain again, and I realized that . . . Ursula . . . she had rubbed that power . . . or ointment onto her hands . . . the thing she said about '_it'll take a while to consume her body.' _I had been . . . poisoned.

I couldn't breathe, and I wheezed silently to myself, unsuccessfully trying to calm myself down, my head feeling light as my eyes had a blur to the edge of my eyes. I started to panic, my fingers shaking as I repeated to myself.

_I don't want to lose my power. _

_I don't want to lose my power at all. _

"Well, then Nathan," Sylar taunted. "It looks like―"

I dropped onto the ground, coughing as blood came out of my coughs, chunks falling to Sylar's feet. Everyone cried out, and I tried to take in deep breaths as my airway was closing, the inflammation getting larger.

"Someone's sucking the moisture out of the air!" Tracy cried, shivering before tackling a person beside her, shoving a hand down the person's throat.

"She's been poisoned," Anna laughed. "She won't make it in time."

"Allergic reaction!" Sylar yelled.

"_No_!" Rachel and Peter cried. "_It's all three_!"

People I knew ran around me, but Dimitri was faster―he ran in front of everyone and nearly screamed in their ears to go back to their places. Liz and Liam shook their heads as they backed up, and Mia and Samuels covered their mouths, backing away.

I grabbed my throat and wheezed, my gut and stomach seeming to cramp up, squeezing together to kill me. _This wasn't good. _

_No, really__―__because I thought that an allergic reaction was bad__―__but being poisoned and suffocated? It's the best thing in the world! _

"Dr. Suresh!" Nathan cried, rushing towards me.

"Dr. Adraithan!" Sylar yelled.

Four figures suddenly hovered over me and Dr. Adraithan was freaking out, I just knew it by the way his eyes went crazy and he lifted up my shirt to reveal the hand print that was sending all the poison into me.

"Mio bambino," Dr. Adraithan said in Italian. "Hold on."

"Dr. Adraithan, what do you suggest we do?" Dr. Suresh whispered.

"New York hospital, as soon as possible," he said.

I coughed, blood spraying into the air, but trickling down my mouth, the blood being forced up my throat from my stomach, the acid burning my throat, eroding the skin away.

"Nathan, you take her," Dr. Adraithan whispered. "I'll be there in a couple of minutes."

Of course, because Dr. Vampire here could outrun a cheetah by 23 minutes.

"Go, Nathan!" Sylar ordered, in hysterics. 'She's going to die if you don't go!"

Nathan cradled me in his arms and I winced as he blasted off, leaving everyone below as he ricocheted through the sky.

This was the fastest I'd ever seen Nathan go, it was like he was using all of his power just to get me from here to there. His face was hard, and worried as we whooshed through the sky like a bullet.

The fluff of the clouds were no longer comfortable, they pressed against me and I wanted to breathe them in for one last time, to smell the sky breeze, but I couldn't―not at all.

I gripped onto him as the pain was consuming my body, the upper part of my body burning from acid and blood loss, and I could only get a few puffs of air into my lungs with every breath I took.

"Nathan . . ." I sputtered.

"Shh, Vasanti," Nathan muttered. "Don't talk."

I looked up at him and tried not to cry as tears were at the corners of his eyes.

"I can . . . take care of myself," I coughed. "But . . . _you lied_."

"I did," he whispered. "I loved you every day since the day we met."

I smiled, holding his hand as my head rested on his shoulder. And even though the pain was nearly killing me, I felt perfect. I belonged in his arms in every single moment of my life. Especially a moment like this.

"Will they end the rumble?"

"I said _don't_ talk," Nathan grumbled. "Save your breath. But . . . yes, I believe that it has already ended."

It was silent for a long time, and the only thing I could hear was the jagged rhythm of my breathing.

"I'm not with Tracy. You're the only one I've ever . . . loved."

"I love you too, Nathan," I smiled and closed my eyes as he landed in New York. "My _hero_. Only a superhero like _you_ would say something like 'It's my pleasure' when I need you."

Bright lights penetrated through my closed eyelids as he stepped through the hospital doors. I opened my eyes and set my head on his chest, wiping away the tears and he kissed me on the temple.

"I'll get you out of this," he whispered, catching his breath from the flight.

Doctors and nurses rushed towards us, ripping me out of Nathan's protective arms and threw me onto a stretcher. His hands held mine for a split second, and as they pushed me through the emergency room door, it was gone, and I felt lost.

"Patient's airway is closing," a woman whispered, ripping my clothes open with scissors and pressing on my stomach.

_Did you ever hear of _taking off clothes_? Don't need to rip it open!_

I screamed as the nurse pressed harder against the hand print, the pain protruding faster and faster through my bloodstream.

"It started here."

"When is Dr. Adraithan coming?"

"A few minutes, he's bringing a guest with him too from the rumble," a nurse answered. "Dr. Suresh."

_Run, Dr. Adraithan, I _need you_. Use your supersonic running skills and get here! _

"Patient's airway is closing rapidly," they all said, ripping off my crests and throwing them on the operation table.

_Tell me something I don't know. _

"Honey, can you hear us?"

I groaned and they jabbed a needle into my arm, and their chatters overlapped everything that I could hear as the faint beeping of the monitor livened up.

"I'm going to need 3 pints of blood type A positive," a familiar voice called.

_Dr. Adraithan. _

"Carlisle," I rasped, pulling him closer. "Don't let it take my power."

And I let go of him, my hands in a fist as I tried not to let go―not so quickly and easily. I wouldn't let go of my power―at all. _Never_.

"Vasanti?" his voice called, echoing. "Vasanti, listen, don't let—_Vasanti, listen to me_!"

**_SO, YOU ACTUALLY REACHED THE ENDING! _**

**GOOD? BAD? **

**PRETTY PLEASE REVIEW THO, because I feel as if I don't get a lot of reviews ... and it makes me sad .. ;(**

**I'll be a darling and show you to the button RIGHT BELOW HERE!**


	14. Nightmare

**sorry i haven't updated in so long .. XD .. but i'm pretty sure everyone's done with this fanfic .. **

**but PLEASE STICK WITH ME!! *begs on ground* **

**there WILL be a book two to this .. and i'll take any suggestions on it on the LAST CHAPTER **

**or you can send requests in with your reviews!! **

**Check out-NEVER ENOUGH, A TWILIGHT AND SUPERNATURALS crossover .. XD**

**R&R!**

* * *

~Nightmare~

* * *

Blinking a couple of times, my eyes flew open, and everything was dimly lit, or maybe because of all the people who were pacing around the room . . . waiting for . . . me? I could see things clearly now, not like before, and their faces suddenly went into focus.

Sarah and Dal were outside as she set her head on his shoulder, snapping to let her fire breathe for a second. Liz and Liam were worriedly pacing back and forth in each others arms, Liz's face streaked with worry as she ground her teeth together. Hiro, Kit, Ando and more people from both sides sat around my room, their faces creased with worry―but it wasn't _that_ bad, right? It had hurt like hell, but they weren't the ones who had to endure poisoning, suffocation _and_ an allergic reaction.

I took a breath of fresh air, my airway a bit sore, but I could breathe, and that was the thing that I was relieved to know. IV's stuck into my skin, pumping blood and another substance into my body.

Nathan's head lay next to my side, his eyes closed and blood tracing from his neck down from my coughing on the way here. He blinked, looking up at me and gasping at my smiling face.

"She's awake," he sighed.

Everyone turned to me, sighing in relief as they started to surround me.

"How do you feel?" Nathan whispered.

"Fine," I rasped. "Just . . . sore . . ."

The door opened, then, and I sighed as it slammed shut, a figure running towards me in a white lab coat―like superman.

"Mio bambino," Dr. Adraithan gasped, rushing to my side.

"Carlisle," I huffed as his arms wrapped around me.

Carlisle was Dr. Adraithan's name, but I prefer _any_ of the two names―it didn't really matter to me. Elizabeth and Dr. Suresh trailed behind him, and Dr. Suresh relaxed, just like everyone else. Carlisle looked tired, like he always did in his lab coat and stethoscope wrapped around his neck. He smelled like the hospital, cold and weird, but with a hint of sweetness.

"I thought I lost you, Vasanti," Carlisle whispered.

"I won't give up _that_ easily," I muttered. "Especially because I want to interrogate you about being a _vampire_ all along."

"Now's not the time for that, Vasanti," Carlisle laughed. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm sore and my throat hurts," I repeated.

"Let's see," Carlisle said, standing up and putting on his doctor face and pressing his cold fingers onto my lymph nodes. "Lymph nodes are no longer swollen."

He checked my fluids and blood, taking a clip board from the wall and jotting down notes and without pulling out his stethoscope, he knew my blood pressure and how my breathing was sounding like

"You should be released by tomorrow, or the day after that," Carlisle assured, setting the clipboard down. "The anti-histamine seems to be working."

I wriggled my fingers in excitement, but there was no blue tint that I always had and felt from within. My heart sank, and I could see everyone else tense up.

"Vasanti," Sylar cried, rushing into the room, petrified.

"Hey, Sylar," I bit my lip, not smiling.

"Vasanti?" Dr. Suresh asked, walking up to the bed, next to Dr. Adraithan. "Is something the matter?"

I stared at my hands, wriggling them over and over like a child, trying to find a _trace_ of water or ice. I sensed that everyone was as worried as I was as they circled around my bed, confused.

"Did I . . . lose my power?" I whimpered.

Dr. Suresh and Dr. Adraithan looked at each other, holding something back. Sylar beside me tensed, anger engulfing him as he gripped onto the sheets next to me.

"_Tell her_!" Sylar yelled, slamming his fist on the bed. "So I know which throat I should rip out!"

Everyone's gaze went to the two doctors, and Elizabeth tightened her grip on Dr. Adraithan's arm.

"It's only temporary," Dr. Suresh started, letting Dr. Adraithan finish for him.

"Your ability needs to stabilize after your transfusion of anti-histamine," Dr. Adraithan explained. "The stomach muscles need to regain their tissues also."

_Temporary_. _Right_. I sighed as Sylar beside me relaxed, holding onto my hand.

"Here, Icebeam," Sylar whispered, dropping the locket into my hand. "I'm sorry."

I pursed my lips as I gripped onto the locket, tears welling in my eyes as I looked at Sylar, his face filled with regret and sadness.

"I am too," I muttered. "Ashley was your's. I wish I could have done something."

"There's nothing you could have done," Sylar cried, wrapping his arms around me. "Nothing."

"Vasanti," Sarah jumped in, smiling. "Thanks for saving Dal, he's so impetuous at times."

She hugged me and closed her eyes, beaming as she took a bouquet of flowers from Dal and set it on a shelf next to me in a vase.

"There," Sarah piped, thinking me again before heading out of the door. "See you when you come out!"

"Vasanti," Ando said, bowing to me. "It was nice to meet you again."

Not being able to bow myself, I bowed my head as Ando backed away, Hiro making his way in.

"Thank you, Vasanti," Hiro whispered. "You are _very_ brave."

They disappeared as Ando set his hands on Hiro, and it went on like this. Everyone came in to thank me, and I grinned and beared it, about to fall asleep as they all lined up in the hospital room, but only the people who needed to be here of course, they were my best friends ever. Liz, obviously―because of her amazing perky attitude―was in hysterics as she smiled brightly, nearly making the sun seem like a small flashlight compared to her smile. But during the entire time, Sylar and Nathan sat by my side as the room piled with flowers and teddy bears and unopened presents and balloons.

I nestled into my pillow, the blanket that they had draped over me was comfortable and muffled all the smells and sounds of the hospital, making me feel as if I was home. Nathan sat on a sofa in the corner of the room, his eyes not lingering far from me as he spoke quietly to Peter and Andrew, Rachel was trying to stop the bleeding from Peter's cheek as she padded swabs at his lip, shaking her head at him as he backed away. Sylar, obviously, sat next to me, his eyes never straying from mine.

Sighing, I closed my eyes. I wished that this could go on forever. The people I loved, with me forever.

***

_I was in a garden. And it had layers, lots of layers. _

_The White House garden. _

_Everything was filled with fog, and it was misty, like it had just rained. The laughing and giggling filled the air, leaving me out of the joke as I peeked from behind a bush, stepping out of the shadows. _

_Rachel and Peter engaged with each other, their lips never leaving each others' lips and behind them, Dal and Sarah playing with a campfire, their figures huddled together and laughing. I walked down another level, still too high for me, and Liz and Liam playfully ran from behind me, spraying each other with confetti as Liz's smile gleamed through the fog. I stepped through their little party, Samuels and Mia were doing tai chi, Samuals was teaching Mia how to use her senses in a battle. _

_"Great, I'm getting lessons from an old man," Mia laughed. _

_"Do not underestimate the potential of an old man," Samuels warned, their hands moving slowly as they pushed though air. _

_Kit was in a football field, throwing to an unknown figure as I passed through a random place through the fog. But suddenly, the smoke surrounded Kit, and he was screaming, but I couldn't do anything to help him as I tried to carry my feet forward. His screams died down and I cried, his lifeless body finally in my arms as he whispered something to me, but nothing came out. _

_And then I came upon Sylar . . . and Ashley. I picked myself off of the ground and tried to stand up. They were the ones that were laughing so loud, their laughs were like they were never separated. Sylar and Ashley's face were finally clear, the fog disappearing as Sylar's lips were curved into a smile. _

_"Come on, Vasanti!" They called, waving me over as they sprayed each other with water guns. _

_They spun around in circles, spraying at me as I tried to dodge the water that wiped all of Kit's blood away from my clothes. Sylar's body was suddenly hunched closer to her body that was falling backwards as his lips lingered on her lips, their breathing in sync as they kissed. _

_But before Sylar or Ashley could savor the moment, Ashley disappeared from his arms, a rush of water falling down from where she used to be. I gasped. _

_"You!" Syalr pointed a convicting finger at me. "_You_ killed her!" _

_The familiar words echoed through my mind, piercing through all the nerves that I used to treasure so dearly. _

_"No! _No_!" I cried. "Not _this_ time. Not ever! Not _again_! She was alive. I saw her, heard her. She. Was. _ALIVE_!" _

_Sylar's hands seized me by the throat, throwing me into a bush of thorns that wrapped around me and inserted themselves into my skin, then scraping down my skin and pulling out. He hovered over me, grabbing me at the shoulders and kneeling beside me, slamming my back against the throns, jabbing into my back. _

_"Why, Vasanti?" Sylar cried. "She was the one who loved me. I love her!" _

_"And me?" I yelled back. _

_"_You_?" Sylar laughed, throwing me onto the grass, my back aching. "You're a _useless bitch_!" _

_I pushed myself up on my scraped arms, the thorns digging in more than an inch. And I ran. I ran until I was at the lowest level of the gardens and sat on the ground, burying my face in my hands. More giggling and laughing startled me as it came from a few feet away, no movement detected. _

_I stood up, creeping out from a bush to look behind it and gasped. The portrait that Angela had painted was lying on the ground, tilted and stared me in the face. It was like a portrait from Hogwarts, the image real and moving. _

_"Just wait, babe," Nathan said to me, making out with _Tracy_. "I'll be right with you. I'm kind of busy right now." _

_I winced, backing away from the large portrait, the girl in the picture glaring at me with cold eyes. _

_"You're missing out," Tracy laughed. "He's all _mine_ now." _

_I looked away and tears streamed down my face. Sarah and Dal stepped through the shadows, followed by all the people I had passed__―__including Kit. _

_"Wanna play?" Sarah smiled, twirling a finger with fire coiling around her fingers. _

_She stepped towards me, a haunting smile on her face as I backed up, crashing into Peter and Rachel as they threw their hands over my shoulder. _

_"Wanna join?" _

_"No!" I cried. _

_"Vasanti__―__how could you?" Sylar screamed, pulling me away from Peter and Rachel, shaking my already bloodied shoulders. _

_My head spun as everyone was talking to me, their voices overlapping. _

_Mia and Samuels. _

_Liz and Liam._

_Kit. _

_Sylar threw me so I landed face to face with Nathan and Tracy again._

_"I said wait, sugar," Nathan had to yell in order to get me to hear over the commotion. _

_"Yes, she can__―__you're mine now." _

_Tracy traced her fingers down Nathan's face. _

_"_WHORE_!" I shrieked involuntarily, so loud that everyone stopped ganging up on me. "You're a whore! Get your hands off of Nathan! I _loved him_! _Me_!" _

_"It doesn't matter _now_, does it?" Tracy smiled. _

_Anger nearly killed me, and I grabbed the portrait, smashing it on the ground, the glass shattering and their screams filling the air as the crashed to the sides of the frame, blood seeping from their wounds. _

_"Nathan!" Peter yelled, barging through the crowd and towards me. _

_I laughed. I don't know why I laughed, but something just seemed funny to me. I was going insane. I was killing Nathan, and as I smashed the portrait harder onto the ground, I couldn't stop myself. It was the exact thing I was afraid to do and _now_ I was doing it. _

_Everyone pulled me away from the painting as I slammed it to the ground a final time. I screamed and thrashed. I needed to finish her off!_

_But these pair of hands were too cold to be any humans as I stared at Peter, hunched over the portrait. I turned around, staring into the eyes of 4 pale faces, gripping onto me and pulling me into the darkness, the light seeming to be forever away. Ashley's dead hand gripped my shoulder, her face a haunting blue, her lips purple and eyes with circles under her eyes. The other faces were Dimitri and Val, standing back as I pushed them away, crossing their arms and staring at the last person who was grabbing me also. His face was deathly pale, and he smiled at me, a smile I had never seen on him before. _

_"Care to join?" they all whispered, Ashley's hand pulling me deeper into the darkness, but their faces glowing. _

_He leaned toward me, jaw open slightly as he laughed, his lips pressing to my throat before Dr. Adraithan bit down, fangs bared. _

_***_

A blood curdling scream filled the air as I thrashed in my bed, the needles in my skin tugging at me, but I still screamed as loud as I could.

"No! _No_! _NO_!" I shrieked. "I don't _want_ to be like you! I didn't mean to kill her! I didn't mean to!"

Everyone in the room jumped up with bewildered eyes. Nathan, who was in a chair across the room, leapt to his feet and everyone else stared at me as I freaked out.

"_Don't_ touch me!" I cried. "I don't want to be like you!"

My monitors jumped, the frequency going faster and faster as my mind was blowing up, my shrieks never ending. Hands grabbed me by the arms and legs, my neck flying back and revealing my veins as I screamed, staring at the ceiling as I tried to make them stop.

"Vasanti!" Sylar called, shaking my shoulders. "Snap out of it!"

"Page Dr. Adraithan!" I heard Nathan whisper in a rush.

"Oh, my god, what's wrong with _her_?"

Agreeing and questioning murmurs filled the entire room as I shook my head, thrashing at all the hands binding me to the bed.

"Let. Go!" I screamed, clasping a hand on my neck as I felt his touch climbing up my throat. "_DON'T_!"

He was going to kill me. He was going to make me a vampire, and take away my soul. To consume my blood. And Ashley, she was _out for blood_―my blood. She was going to kill me no matter what.

My head was already exploding so much that I didn't notice that Rachel and Peter were calming me down with their compulsion. My screaming died down and my body relaxed, falling back into my bed as they made sure I was _all_ calm before pulling out of my head.

"What was _that_?" Nathan whispered, staring at me.

"Why'd she do that?"

"Who was she talking about?"

"Is Vasanti okay?"

I was _fine_, at least, for a few moments before―of course―Dr. Adraithan walked into the room.

"_NO_!" I shrieked. "He's come to _kill me_!"

He looked up at me with questioning eyes, and I tensed at the far away look in his eyes that made me drown in them.

"I beg your pardon?" Dr. Adraithan muttered.

"You're working with Ashley!" I screamed at him, tears rushing to my eyes as I said the name. "You want me to be a _vampire_!"

"Vasanti," Sylar huffed in my ear. "You don't know what―"

"Yes she does," Rachel whispered. "She's in shock. Someone's a dream maker on the _Solitude_ side."

"Ettoro," all the _Solitudes_ muttered.

"He wants Vasanti to turn on the _Villias_," Rachel whispered. "He wanted _everyone_ to turn on her."

"You said 'everyone'," Nathan said. "Who?"

She listed off all the people in my dream, and everyone gasped and shook their heads at how low Ettoro had to steep. I sat up, not wanting to be ignored anymore, even though it was barely dawn. Carlisle sighed, wrapping his arms around me.

"It's okay," he whispered in my ear. "I'll always be here for you."

I sobbed, my arms gripping onto his lab coat as I cried onto his shoulder. I couldn't believe that I had nearly accused my doctor of planning a conspiracy and killing me. He would _never_ do that. He was like a father to me. And I was his only daughter. His perfectly sculpted figure made me feel like I was loved, and I knew I was. From him. Forever.

"Thank you," I cried.

Everyone was nearly gone by the passing hour, only Liz, Dimitri, Rachel, Peter, Nathan and Sylar were here, waiting as Dr. Adraithan pulled out all the needles that were pumping liquids through my veins. He smiled at me as he patted my head.

"You just need to finish the final dose of anti-histamine," Carlisle smiled. "_Then_ you can leave. I'll be back in half an hour."

After a few minutes of pure silence and staring at each other for no reason, Sylar stood up, gesturing Nathan to follow him.

"Nathan, can I talk to you in private?" he muttered.

Rachel and Liz threw looks behind them, raising their eyebrows before taking their seats next to me, frowning.

"This isn't going to go well," Liz scoffed.

"What do you supposed they're talking about?" I whispered.

"Maybe if we're _really_ quiet," Liz smirked at me.

Their voices were muffled, but we could still just barely understand what they were talking about. Or arguing about.

"Maybe she doesn't need to choose," Nathan growled.

"Yeah, and she'll run off for another two weeks," Sylar snapped.

"You _witnessed_ what happened when she had to choose!" Nathan kept his voice low, but his there was a tint of a threat in his tone of voice.

"No, I saw what some _creep_ had done to her!" Sylar cried, directly aimed towards Nathan.

"You want to sit through the next millennium, staring into the eyes of someone who has changed the lives of so many people, and see nothing but _gray_ emptiness?" Nathan taunted. "That's _pure torture_! Especially if you _abandon _her for someone else! She's your _sister_! Let her _go_ her own way!"

"It's not much better than what _you'd _put her through!" Sylar slammed right back at him. "Your _Solitude_―Ettoro, nearly made her turn on her own _father_!"

And my world came crashing down.

**~End of Chapter Fourteen~**

* * *

**Yes? No? Maybe so? **

**as always .. i'd like you to review!!**

**because i luv cliff hangers?? i dunno .. jsut write somethinglike**

**"i hated it so much it made me throw up" **

**or **

**"I'll stab you to death if you ever write anymore in your life" **

**i was j/k .. but whatever!**

**REVIEW!**

* * *


	15. Lie To Me

**It's been SOO long since I last updated this story!! BUT since HEROES is back in season, i decided to start up again!!!!just for ashley, yes of course. **

**enjoy!! **

**READ AND REVIEW!!**

* * *

~Lie To Me~

* * *

Carlisle was my father? This couldn't be? We only took our mom's maiden name, not my father's, but . . . then . . . it _couldn't_ be true . . . not in a million years! Were my ears deceiving me?

"No," I whispered. "No, no no no no, _no_!"

"Vasanti, hush," Liz whispered, clutching onto my arm. "We don't want to . . ."

"It's not true!" I screamed, tears springing to my eyes. "You're lying, Sylar. _Lying_! I don't care if you have to condemn me to _hell_—you're _lying_!"

I hastily started to rip the IV's out of my arm, crying and screaming, but cold hands pinned them down as Dimitri stepped forward, muttering Russian swear words into my ear. I slammed my arms against him, but he was too strong—too vampirically strong.

Nathan dashed in, his feet hovering off of the ground as his feet finally slammed to the ground, swiping his hair—his face still shocked with the news. Sylar—I knew him—he was trying to hide his face from me—so he wouldn't need to explain.

"How?" I cried, tears streaming as I sat up in my bed, trying to pry Dimitri's hands off of me. "Carlisle . . . could _never_ be . . . my father!"

"I'm sorry, Icebeam," Sylar whispered, holding my hand as Dimitri finally stepped away. "You didn't need to . . . _know_."

I swiped his hand away, glaring at him. He was hurt—and it wanted him to be. That . . . _bastard_—so many lies—just because he 'loved me.'

"I _thought_ you were my brother—I did _everything_—just for you!" I muttered. "I don't look _anything_ like Carlisle. I'm _ashamed _to even _look_ at you."

Sylar's forehead creased as he looked down, his jaw clenched.

"I _am_ your brother," Sylar said through clenched teeth. "But . . . you're just . . . not _entirely_ . . . _mine_. Our mother was Lillian. _My_ father was Jason—he never had the gold hair—his hair was brown, just like mine. But _you_—you have the gold highlights mixed with mom's deep brown hair—you're _Carlisle's._"

He handed me the locket, the picture frames filled with Jason, Lillian, and Carlisle. I threw it to the side, wanting to rip the images out of my mind.

"How?" I cried, turning away from him. "He's a _vampire_!"

"He's still like a human—when _you_ were born, your human senses overpowered your vampire senses," Sylar explained. "But you—"

"I have to choose . . ."

I pursed my lips, biting my bottom lip as I tried to calm the tears that seemed to never halt.

"Vasanti . . ." Nathan stepped forward and I stopped him, crystal-like tears disappearing.

"It will _never_ be resolved if I don't choose," I muttered, tugging at the IV in my arm, wincing. "Without Sylar, I'd be broken. Without Nathan, I'd have a broken heart. Without both, I'd die. With both, it would be chaos. I'd rather have one than none."

I stared at both of them, my breathing jagged and hurt as I finally knew my choice.

"Nathan, I'm head over heels for you," I whispered. "I was in love with you the moment we met, and I have never loved someone so unconditionally to drive me against my own brother. There will be . . . others . . . but . . . not like . . . you. I'm . . . Nathan . . . you've got to understand that . . . I'm _dangerous_ to be around. That I'm . . ." My voice broke and I stifled my sob.

"Vasanti—I'm _willing_ to take that risk with you," Nathan shook his head, his eyes closing with hurt as my heart shattered. "I believe that you should—"

"_Just _go, _Nathan_!" I screamed. "_Please_, LEAVE_ before I change my mind_!"

The pain on his face ripped me from inside as he swiftly flew out the door, Peter rushing behind him. Liam and Liz knelt next to me, holding my hand. I looked away from the door, towards the window as my heart was breaking, and I couldn't hold in the pain that I'd never felt before. It was like every touch; every word that we had exchanged, ever place we'd been to—every memory—had been erased one by one, and I couldn't do anything about it.

Tears ran down the corners of my eyes, and this time, they were _hot_ tears—something that had never happened before. Because this came from where it _really_ hurt, these tears came . . . from my heart.

All the _Solitudes_ that were in the room rushed behind their leader, and Liz shook her head at me, kissing me on the forehead as she stood up.

"You didn't need to," Liz whispered. "You've made a difference. We all just want you happy."

When she left the room, all was quiet. Sylar just sat next to me, staring.

"I'm not even your brother anymore," Sylar scoffed. "I'm only half."

"Then I'll make it whole."

Right then, Carlisle walked in, adjusting his stethoscope around his neck. "Well, it looks like your ready to go now, Vasanti."

He slowly and steadily pulled out the needles injected into my skin, stinging and prodding as I looked away. He didn't need to know what I was going through—he didn't even _bother_ to tell me, all these years that _I_ was his daughter. That _he_ was my father.

"Is something wrong?" he asked as Sylar never left my gaze.

My jaw clenched, and I looked up at him. Carlisle. _My_ father? It was just so . . . bizarre.

"You weren't kidding every time you said 'mio bambino'" I whispered, my face serious and probing as my eyes penetrated through his eyes. "Weren't you?"

Carlisle's head snapped around, his face hard as he tried to stay composed.

_Lie to me_. I wasn't going to be convinced with anything he said. Because _anything_ that came out of his mouth—could be a lie.

* * *

**READ AND REVIEW PLEASE!! I worked my BUTT OFF to get off of the writer's block!!**


	16. Shattered

**yay! Another chapter, and SO SOON too!!**

**Dedicated to the song: Shattered-By: Trading Yesterday!**

**Read and REVIEW!**

* * *

**~Shattered~**

* * *

~Two Days Later~

"Sylar, something's wrong," I whispered, the icy sensation in my arms seeming to dig at my flesh.

I wriggled my fingers, trying to get the nasty sensation away, but it stayed, lingering until I felt as if I was going to freeze myself. I could feel it, I could see it, I could just barely put my finger on it.

"Sylar," I breathed, pushing him away as I dashed out of my room. "I've got to go."

The rain was just starting to pour as I started to rush across the gates and pulling it open as I rushed over to the nearest football field, crying out as I stopped in the entrance to the small football field.

And there, across a football field, in an open circle that I was walking into, there was Kit.

I was running as the circle closed in, yelling as loud as I could so Kit would watch out for the figure right next to him. But I was too late. Kit looked up at me with a bewildered look, his striped sweater in tatters as I screamed one last time for him.

The entire circle closed in, a million punches being thrown before they broke out into cheers. The circle departed, running away, and I cried out, touching every single one of them as I passed by, anger rushing through my veins as they brushed my shoulders, freezing in place.

"How could you!" I shrieked at the people who got away. "He's a _boy_!"

I rushed over to Kit's side, tears staining my face as he lay in my arms, dying. Blood was everywhere, and I denied every possibility that it was Kit's. He clutched onto my hand, which didn't have the ice consuming it anymore.

"Vasanti," he smiled. "Not who I pictured on my deathbed, but . . . good enough."

I sniffed, pressing my cheek against his hair.

"You're not going to die," I whispered.

"Yes, I am," he laughed.

I pulled him closer into my chest, hoping that he wouldn't be able to hear the beating of my heart, racing and scared. I held him and cried, his hair now a muddy color from being thrown so much.

"How could they, Kit?" I muttered to him. "How could they do this to you?"

Sylar was just _finally_ coming after me, his hands and shirt bloody as he knelt beside Kit.

"How is he?"

Sniffling, I shook my head, cupping his face into my arms. "Sylar."

"Vasanti," Sylar shook his head, and I screamed.

"_No_!" I cried. "Please, Kit!"

"Vasanti," he said, holding my hand. "It's _. . . okay_. Just tell my mother that I'm finally normal. That I'm _finally_ human. Tell her that I'll come back—that I'm just on a slight vacation, and that I'll be back. But _don't_ tell her I'm dead. Tell her my father is going to love her again. That he didn't leave for no reason. He left for _her_."

I shook my head violently. Kit's mom was mentally _ill_, but what would she do without Kit? He was her only son, and his dad had run away to find more powers when Kit was 13.

"Please, Vasanti," Kit coughed, blood running down his cheek. "Do it . . . _for me_."

"No, Kit," I whispered. "I don't _want you to die_! I love you, Kit! _Please_!"

"I love you too, Vasanti," Kit smiled. "You've been a good comrade."

"Sylar," I cried, sobbing as I held Kit closer to me, my face buried into his hair as his hand tightened around mine, giving me the half-hearted smile before his hand went limp, and I tried with all my might to pull him up. "_No, please_. _PLEASE_!"

"Kit, Kit, Kit." _Kit, Kit._

He was gone. He was _gone_. He was _GONE_.

"Vasanti," Sylar started, inching towards me.

"Get away!" I shrieked. "Stay _away_ from _my Kit_!"

Stay away. Stay away. From Kit. My Kit. _Gone_. Kit. Gone.

I breathed in and out quickly, his still body still pressed firmly against me, wanting to breathe life into him again. I wish I could. I _wanted_ to. So badly. Hyperventilating, I was still going to stay here until the rain washed everything away from me.

Gone. _Kit_. Get _away_. _Kit_. For Kit. _Please_.

I loved him. He was mine.

"No."

***

I'd never been much of a religious person, and walking into this church, where they held Kit's casket--felt foreign to me. His mother was the only one in the front, kneeling and smiling at everyone around her who were sitting down, holding back their tears.

Walking behind me, Sylar, who was dressed in a suit, standing to the sidelines to give me some room to mourn over his dead body. I had slipped on a skirt and a black formal jacket, the hat that I had on has a fishnet cloth that ran across my face, my blood red lips and bleary eyes seeming to stand out more than my clothes.

"Ah, Vasanti," Leyli whispered, setting a hand on mine as I sat down in front of all the flowers. "Why is my son in this box?"

I had planned this entire conversation in my head, and as soon as I saw her face, beautifully shaped and so much like Kit's, I nearly choked on my own saliva. The white shawl that wrapped around her made her look small, and I gave a fake smile.

"It's a bed, made especially for Kit," I tried not to make eye contact. "He's on a . . . _mission_ for Sylar, and he needs to be asleep for it. He's going to catch a murderer through his dreams. Did you know that, Leyli? That Kit has changed? He's normal now. He's a good guy."

"I don't want him to be normal," she cocked an eyebrow, ther blonde hair gleaming as I shook my head. "I want him to be Kit."

"Don't worry, Leyli," I whispered. "He'll come back for you. Then you can both go together."

"Where are we going?"

I tried to breathe steadily. "You're going to somewhere warm, like Italy."

She beamed, and I stood up, setting a rose in his coffin before I backed away, burying myself into the comfort of Sylar as I cried, Kit's sophomore class picture posted up on the stand, staring me in the face as I sobbed, choking up before I could say a single thing to Sylar, who just patted my back as my head buried into his chest. I was wincing. I was wincing because of my broken heart. It was like someone had driven a stake through it, and kept pushing it in farther and farther until I was dead.

But nothing compared me for the next drive of another stake.

"Greetings, Senator Petrelli," Leyli cried. "My son has wanted to meet you since he was a boy."

My head snapped up to meet Nathan's bodyguard, who eyed me suspiciously. Peter and Rachel nodded to me, and I closed my eyes at them as I nodded. But Nathan, I couldn't stand as he gave that smirk to me, the corners of his mouth pulling up.

"Vasanti," Sylar's voice rung, and I did as his tone told me.

My hands and face disappeared from Sylar's grasp, and I rushed outside of the pure white church.

A few moments later, a strictly irritated Nathan Petrelli climbed out and into a limo, Sylar by my side in no time as he turned me away from Nathan, and as Nathan drove off, he shot me a glance.

_You know you can't let me go_. I could just _hear_ him saying that, as if he was next to me.

And my arms wrapped around Sylar as I cried over and over. And this time, I didn't know who the tears were for.

Kit? Who had died on _my_ watch?

Nathan? Who I loved _so_ passionately?

Ashley? Who I had killed?

Sylar? Whom I'd taken the soul away from?

Or for me? Self-pity? Or Selfishness?

But I knew one thing. My life, was ruined.

***

I stared at the headlines of the newspaper, snapping it back and forth.

_Vasanti resigns from position!_

_Senator Petrelli may be impeached for his destructive actions!_

I threw the newspaper down to the floor and slammed the doors to my balcony open. I half expected Nathan to fly to my rescue as I played with the small shards of ice on my fingers. I crossed my arms and leaned on the railing, trying to blink away the tears as I thought about the past week, and how miserable I'd been. I hated the fact that even though I had chosen the _Villia_ side, I couldn't bring myself to wear the Villia crest. I had also excepted the fact that Dr. Adraithan was my father--but I couldn't really bring myself to call him 'dad,' _daddy_, or whatever he wanted me to call him. _He cheated on Elizabeth_.

"Hmm," I muttered, tilting my head as I looked at the limo nearing the house. "Who could that be?"

I dashed down the stairs and composed myself as Sylar was at the door, already opening it and letting in Peter and Rachel. Rachel was smiling at me (probably because I still had my pajamas on, but who cares?), but in an edgy way.

"Sylar, I hope you still have your old feelings back," Peter whispered.

I held onto Sylar's arm, not knowing what to anticipate, staring at Peter and Rachel--were they going to kill us?

"She came to us first," Rachel smiled, parting away from the door.

Behind them, the door to the limo opened, and I saw someone I never thought I'd ever see again. Her hair was up in a bun, the dark sunglasses she wore made her almost foreign to me, and her halter top and skirt seemed a bit much for the person I used to know. It was either that Rachel was playing a trick on my head, or _someone_ was alive, and here to murder me.

"Ashley?" I cried, wrapping my arms around her as tears sprang to my eyes, the icy shattering behind her as I sobbed. "I'm _so_ sorry! You don't know how . . . I mean . . ."

"I'm pretty sure I know how much you are sorry," she smiled at Rachel, tears rimming her eyes as she took her sunglasses off. "Hey, Sylar."

"Ashley," he gave her a half-hearted smile, then, immediately rushed towards her, his arms in a rush as they wrapped around her, Ashley's tears spilling as she tried to compose herself, but it had been too long since they had seen each other.

***

"How?" I gasped, pouring Peter and Rachel a cup of tea as Sylar and Ashley sat together on the porch.

"A farm girl out in the country took her pieces in after Sylar left," Rachel nodded, smelling the tea. "She had the power to bring things to life, or _back_ to life--but it took a while for Ashley because of your potential."

"She has an ability now."

"_What_?" I cried.

"Yeah," Rachel nodded. "She's had it since she was a little girl."

"She can bring out the best side of you," Peter smiled. "It's an _amazing_ ability. It takes skill to hide it so well from _Sylar_."

I laughed, standing up to put my dishes away.

"Is it appropriate for me to ask how your doing . . . without _Nathan_?" Peter muttered.

That name was a slap to the face. The dishes that I was washing fell into the sink, and my jaw clenched. I let my nails dig into my skin, not turning around to face him.

"I'm sorry, Vasanti," Peter sighed. "He wants to know. He cares about you, you know."

"Stop," I snapped. "Don't. I want to know how _he's_ doing. Especially if he's going to be impeached for 'destructive actions.'"

Peter and Rachel exchanged looks, shaking their heads.

"He's been . . . different," Peter whispered. "And we need you to help."

"_Me_? Help?" I cried. "Yeah, right. I will vote for him as the next president of the Northern Colonies, but _convince_ him to get it together? _No_.

"You just need to talk some sense back into him," Rachel begged.

I shook my head at them, scoffing. "I can't. I wouldn't be able to control myself."

_"Please_." Their voices rung and echoed through my head, piercing every nerve as I groane, pressing my fingers to my temples.

_God, they were doing this_ again.

"What's the point of mind control if you can' t do anything with the Gray's?" Rachel complained.

"Fine," I muttered. "I'll go to _try_ and stop him from partying too much."

"But in the end, you should join him," Sylar said.

And for once, I looked at Sylar, and I saw the truth.

***

Doing a double take, _again_, I sighed. _This_ was where Nathan was? A club? Well, I had to give him credit--at least it wasn't a _strip_ club. It couldn't be _too_ horrible in this club . . . right?

The block was deserted, and as I illegally parked near the front entrance of a flight of stairs, leading to a big, large door. As I got out of the car, the drizzling seemed to be interesting to witness. The last time it was drizzling, Kit had died. The horrible things that I had to pull on quickly were a pair of capris and a halter top, my hair falling flat.

Walking into the door, the dark smell of _beer_ and sweat filled up my nostrils as a couple stumbled into me. They narrowed their _Villia_ eyes at me before noticing my expression at them, dark and confused. I could see what they were thinking.

_Ah, yes, Vasanti Gray, the bitch who saved all our asses_. _Thanks_. Not_. _

"Nathan Petrelli," I growled. "Where is he?"

The bartender pointed to a booth in the corner.

I nodded, trying to recite the words in my head. _Wait_, what was I doing again? This was _Nathan_, right? Or was it Peter? What? Where was I?

When I finally got to the back of the booth, everything suddenly went back and I took a deep breath, trying to ready myself. But when I saw who was in the booth, my heart sank, and I could hear it heaving as it dropped to my stomach, being buried in acid.

Nathan's hands lingered on her waist as his lips pressed to her's.

Tracy Strauss.

Tracy's hands pulled Nathan to her as she lied down. And for a minute, my heart stopped beating and I didn't take a breath. Reflecting in my eyes, I saw the night that Nathan and I first kissed. He would have gone farther, but he was afraid he'd hurt me, or maybe _I'd_ hurt _him_.

When I finally took a single breath, it came out as a gasp, a desperate one.

Nathan and Tracy stopped swapping spit, turning around to look at me. Nathan immediately stood up, buttoning his shirt back up as I crossed my arms in front of him, trying to hold the tears back for when I was alone. Tracy stood up, straightening her v-neck and black dress as she tried to hide that flushed-down-the-toilet face of her's.

As soon as Nathan was out of the way, I lunged towards her, my shoulder slamming against the table and knocking it over as I grabbed Tracy's shoulders. She struggled against my grip until my hand reached up to slap her across that bitchy face of her's, my hands seeming to breathe my words for me as she tumbled over me, punching me in the gut.

As she tried to walk away (my wheezing being theatrical and all), I twirled around and my foot kicked against her leg, and she went tumbling as my hand clasped around her neck, a few chants breaking out from the crowd that had formed as ice swirled around my arms, engulfing my arms and my neck. That was when the changing ended, my face glowing like a demon.

"You're going to wish you never laid a hand on him," I muttered, my voice hidden and dangerous as I gripped on tighter to her neck.

"He never loved you," she choked out, her face a bright red compared to her blonde hair. "That's why he wants _me_!"

"Shut up, you _bitch_!" I screamed, pulling her up by one hand and throwing her to the ground, slamming against a table top.

Hands pried me off of Tracy, her smile bleeding through my soul as I tried to get back to her. Cold, icy tears were in my eyes as I was pulled away from her, my anger and ice still building in my arms as they grabbed my body.

"I want to kill her, torture her--hear her _scream_!" I shrieked. "_I'm_ going to _RIP HER THROAT OUT_!"

"Let it go, Vasanti," Nathan whispered.

I ripped the hands off of my waist and turned around, staring at Nathan with cold eyes. So he _did_ like this bitch! I closed my eyes as I tried to think, holding the ice within and stomping off, my shoulder slamming past him and all the other bystanders as I rushed out the door, the rain pattering on my shoulders as I sobbed, slowly stepping out to the railing. The door opened behind me, and I turned around to glare at him.

"Get a room," I whispered, surprised I could even talk. "You'll be _happier_ then."

His face was hurt, and I could see that it was still painful to see me again, which made me notice that I missed him just as much. Because I had _loved him_. Because he was mine. _Was. _A single word that could rip my hart out. He _was_ in love with me. But no more.

"You didn't need to murder her," Nathan muttered.

I gasped. Maybe his face was hurt because i had _hurt_ his shining star.

"How can you _say_ that?" I yelled, daring to step closer to him. "_That _kiss was _ours_! And you just _gave it away_, just like _that_!"

"You don't understand . . .Vasanti . . ."

I slapped him across the face, making sure that it would _definitely_ leave a mark. The ice tears shattered to the ground as I punched him, barely hurting him as I tried to push him away, his arms forming a cage around me. I could smell his breath, hot and heavy, with a large portion of booze in it. This wasn't him. This wasn't my Nathan. _My_ Nathan.

"I thought that you were _better_, Nathan," I sighed. "This isn't you--you can't just go to clubs everyday, hoping that you'll magically find what you want. You can't do that when you have a country to rule. You once told me--'it's a pleasure'--is it a _pleasure_ to do this? Thanks for all that you've done."

"Vasanti, you don't understand at all, do you?" Nathan cried as I started to disappear down the stairs. "I _can't_ do _anything_ at all."

"What you mean is," I shook my head. "You can't find someone to replace that gap in your chest. Only the person who put it there in the first place can."

And I was gone.

Everything hurt and I felt suddenly hollow inside as the images flashed through my head, piercing through my eyes as I drove into the blurring mass of rain, ice pealing away from my eyeballs.

I stepped on the brakes as hard as I could, my body jerking as the car halted to a stop a few blocks away from home. Slamming my hand against the steering wheel, I screamed through the thunder and cried out, tears rushing down my cheeks and melting before falling onto the ground.

Seeing Nathan's face again, it was as if he had never left, and I had . . . never broken his heart. His face. His touch. His voice. His love--all of it was missing from my life; and nothing could fill that hollow gap inside of me--no matter how loud I screamed, cried and pounded on and in the car.

***

The door opened and Samuels let me in, my clothes wet and soggy as I stumbled in, tears failing to cease.

Everything was blurry as my tears killed my vision, but I knew that Rachel, Mia and Samuels were here, but there were a few additions--Peter's brother, who I could not see learly, Dr. Adraithan and Elizabeth, Sylar and Ashley--they all stood up as I walked in, staring at me as I cried, my face buried in my hands, falling to my knees.

How could I let this happen? Why was I so stupid? Maybe Nathan would still care for me--if I wasn't born into this life like _this_. I wished that I had told him I loved him earlier--and maybe our relationship would have survived. Because I was hollow--and nothing could fill that hole.

They all rushed up to me, stopping a few feet away as they tried not to mob me. My sobbing was breaking louder as the tears spilled onto the floors in front of me. Carlisle fell to his knees in front of me, wrapping his arms around me as I sobbed into his shoulder, my hands barely being able to circle around his chest into a desperate hug. The sobs now filled the air as I took jagged breaths of the deep hospital smell of Carlisle's wet lab coat filled with icy cold tears that didn't seem to bother him at all. He patted my head as he sighed, rubbing his knuckles across my back to comfort me, whispering soothing Italian words to me like I was a baby.

I was gone, out of the world--lost. Everything had disappeared when I had walked away. Nothing was left. I was alone and I would never survive without the one who had taught me to be who I was, even when it seemed like I didn't know who I was. I couldn't be healed by anyone--ever again.

Everyone sniffed as they saw my broken expression, especially my broken heart, which was scattered everywhere, tears falling from their eyes as they held onto each other, my face too much for them to bear if they didn't want to cry anymore.

"I . . . love you . . ." I whispered through my tears ". . . _dad_."

**~End of Chapter Sixteen~**

* * *

**How CUTE!Carlisle&Vasanti are the PERFECT family!!**

**READ AND REVIEW!!**

**(OOH, PS! Thank you to: Ashley Backstrom, Rachel Miller, Val Lam, Vasanti Lyndale, Liz Ringwald, Sarah Westendorf! You guys DESERVE to be in this story!)**

**And thank you, to my most amazing Reviewee EVER! HAZ!!) **


	17. Short Lived

~Our Notion~

*Short-Lived*

* * *

So everything got worse after that. I never stepped out of my room, only if it was something important. I mostly ate in my room and my usual visitors didn't seem to stay long if they ever came into my room. That was how depressed I was. Sylar and Ashley—even though they were together again—still didn't seem at ease because I was a person who had to 'be kept an eye on' at all times. Carlisle visited every other day with Elizabeth, who talked to Sylar and Ashley about my 'diagnosis.'

I threw the covers off my head, kicking away the bright orange blanket and snuggled up to the large (five feet to be exact) bear that Andrew Petrelli had gotten for me. It's fur was red and velvety, a small green bow wrapping around the bears neck. I brushed my head against its cheek and The door flew open, the breeze brushing me across the face.

Stepping out of bed, I caught the package as it was sent towards my head, my reflexes seeming to still be the same as before. The address was familiar, and I wanted to forget it, but the single name scrawled on the address made me want to throw it out the window.

_Nathan Petrelli_.

I sighed. It was the first sign of him after so long. I ripped the nicely packaged box, not bothering to think about the poor person who had spent hours trying to wrap it perfectly for Senator Petrelli. I pulled out a small chip (which was a DVD a hundered years ago) with the words 'Let Me Rock' flashing on the chip.

I leapt down the stairs and scanned the bar code in front of the scanner on the TV, sitting down in front of the couch, Sylar and Ashley taking a seat next to me.

Sylar hugged me, hugging out air as I bit my lip, setting my head near him, just in case I needed to cry.

The video flashed on the screen, and the transferred to the ballroom in the White House, a piano in the middle of it all, torches lit in the background as Nathan sat behind the piano, his hair formally slicked back and his black tuxedo gleaming.

He played a note on the piano and smiled, his hands running across the piano keys as he played the introduction to the song. _Viva la Vida_.

He didn't sing the lyrics, he just played them on the piano—but they ran through my head, a story that related to him so much.

_I used to rule the world, seas would rise when I gave the word_

_Now in the morning I sleep alone, sweep the streets I used to own_

The look on his face told the story. He had changed, he was different from the last time I had seen him. Maybe the slap got it out of him. But I couldn't look at him withough small crystal forming at the edges of my eyes. I was _totally_ in love with him, and I would never forget that.

By the end of his song, I was in tears, Ashley and Sylar hugging me as I cried.

_How_ could he send this to me? He knew that I'd cry and cry and then I'd somehow want to end my life.

The T.V. immediatley switched on to the NBC network as it did during an urgent message (for example: nuclear bombs being dropped in Jacksonville, Wisconsin.). The headline was: _First talk of Presidency for Senator Petrelli_.

I sat down and stared at the screen, Nathan's suit was navy blue and I could see his eyes better than ever, shining into the camera. Clutching my hands into fists, I barely managed to get a grip on myself. Mixed emotions twirled through me as he started his speech, clearing his throat. I smiled. It was good to hear his voice, but I bit my lip, listening closely.

_"My fellow citizens, things have been . . . hard for me . . . _and_ the country for the last few weeks; and through it all, I've managed to . . . pull through it all without . . . hurting . . . anyone . . . else. I have learned from a great friend of mine that the differences between _Villia_'s and _Solitude_'s must be resolved. _

_"Neutrals, such as everyone who doesn't have an abilty, should be able to choose who our president should be, considering the fact that most of the nation wants nothing to do with this. You all are in denial. In denial that there is such a creator who would give these powers to such people. People who don't deserve them. People who can't handle them. But ask yourself_—_would you _be_ any different? Would you _think_ any different? I have come to learn that what I have_—_is _not_ a curse_—_because I have learned to except it, as a gift. _

_"Running for president would enable me to settle our differences despite the slight discrimination against us. We may not all be heroes, but we are endangered and vulnerable. We cannot afford to keep slaughtering others for the pride of our groups. We need to pull through. For the Northern Colonies." _

"That's because you're _one of them_!" Someone yelled out. "God sent us here to repopulate, not to _mutate_!"

I jolted as the hidden person behind the camera pulled out a gun, his finger laying on the trigger before two shots were fired out, my ears ringing. Feeling as if I was there, I screamed, just like everyone else in the conference room as the security guards tackled down the shooter.

Nathan flew—literally—to the ground and even through the chaos of it all—I ehard peter's cry—loud and clear as day. Peter shouted, and my eyes shook as if he had planted the cry firmly inside my head, the camera zooming into Nathan's body.

He was clutching onto peter's coat, blood seeping from his wounds on his chest, filling his undershirt as Peter ripped Nathan's blazer open, putting pressure on the wound.

I could see that Peter was trying all he could not to cry as Nathan tried to speak, unsuccesfully. I saw him pull Peter close so he could whisper in his ear, the words to little for me to see his lips moving as Peter whispered back. But in the midst of jumbled words, I could read a few words that I read off of his lips.

_I love you, Pete_.

Peter held his brother dearly to him, breaking down in his older brother's shoulder.

But another sentence came out of Nathan's mouth, and I couldn't believe he could think of it during a time like this.

_Find Vasanti_.

And everything went black.

~End of Chapter Seventeen~

* * *

**READ AND REVIEW, PRETTY PLEASE!.the only reason I dont' stop writing is because sylar's wife would murder me! (please don't let her do that!)**


	18. What I've Done

**i know, i'm back from my depression.  
****Please understand i write shorthand, so this was written during the summer.  
I want everyone to know that most of the feeling i put into THIS STORY are real. (almost all).  
But after Nathan's death, please understand that it's been EXTREMELEY hard to write this story when in real life, he isn't even alive anymore. **

**Nathan will _always_ be inside me. I love him to death, and I want you all to know that even though I'm continuing, it doesn't mean I'm alive inside. **

**Please read the bolded note on the bottom after you've finished the story. **

* * *

~Our Notion~

*What I've Done*

After Sylar got me conscious again when my body had crashed to the ground, I was in a rush as I was going to see Carlisle. I was still traumatized, but I was _sure _that he had the answers I was looking for.

I stepped into the hospital in a trench coat that covered up half of my jeans and my t-shirt. Stepping into his office as if I owned the place, disappointed as he already heard me coming, preparing some of my favorite drinks, Iced Thai Tea. He was just adding the milk into it as I sat down in front of his desk, my hand slamming on the mahogany.

"What's his condition?"

He set the cup in front of me, sitting down in his seat parallel to mine, folding his hands, leaning forward and sighing. I pushed the cup away, scoffing at him.

"_Listen_, Dr. Adraithan," I growled. "I don't care that you're a vampire, a doctor, _or_ my father. You've waited long enough—I don't have time for you to be my psychiatrist. _Spill_, Father Vampire.

"Please, I'd appreciate it if you'd not talk to your father in that way," Carlisle whispered.

I narrowed my deathly eyes at him and he sighed.

"The bullets pierced the upper side of the lung, it's minor, but the other bullet just barely penetrated through the pancreas," Carlisle explained. "He was . . . _lucky_."

"And?"

"And . . . _what_?"

"I know you're hiding something," I groaned. "I didn't get my lying skills from my _mother_."

He sighed, clutching his fists so tightly that his knuckles were even whiter than usual. Carlisle gestured me towards the door, leading me out of the wood and glass doors.

"Listen, Vasanti," Carlisle explained.

"I've been listening for the last two minutes, why not listen now?"

"I don't want you to . . . get _too_ frightened, but please understand—we are doing the best of all our knowledge to cure him."

He opened the door to a room 315, guarded heavily with 4 bodyguards, and gestured me into a room, containing Peter and Rachel, huddled around a bed with a _very_ deathly pale Nathan lying there. Carlisle seemed to speak to Peter through his mind as Peter stood up, sitting back down as soon as Carlisle looked at him. Peter's eyes had dark crescents under his eyes, and were also bloodshot—he loved his brother _too_ much.

Rachel just sighed, about to break down as she could barely stare at Peter with choking back her sobs.

"The gun powder was equipped with a substance that released a . . ." Carlisle started, pulling out a chair beside Nathan for me to sit, testing the fluids as he spoke. "It could very much destroy his _Solitude_ DNA."

"What do you mean?"

My hand trembled as I touched his clammy skin, the warm feeling of his skin making a spark go off. He was in pain. I could tell his labored breathing caused a heavy feeling in his chest, making him jerk and cough. I gripped on tighter to his hand, wanting to say something to him.

"I mean, he could lose his ability."

My eyes immediately flashed up to look at Nathan's sleeping figure, and I realized that he was as good as _dead_ without his power. He said so himself. He'd found out that his ability was a gift, not a curse. It was something that would _be_ part of Nathan. Everything I loved about him . . . would be gone. The spark of life that he had wouldn't be there anymore. But worst of all—his smile wouldn't ever make my heart skip a beat—ever again.

"How will he be able to get it out of his system?" I looked back at Carlisle, pain plastered on my face, a sign of a first tear running down my cheek.

"He needs a lot of rest," Carlisle patted my back.

My head shot up and I pulled out my phone.

"Liam," I cried. "He can help."

"Yes, he can," Carlisle breathed a sigh of relief. "But he can only regenerate Nathan's skin to a certain extent. This powder is _powerful_."

"Liam?" I whispered into the speaker shakily. "I need a favor."

***

While we waited for Liam to arrive, Peter and Rachel only stared at Nathan, exchanging glances between each other and then Carlisle. They were having their own conversation, and as Rachel and Peter threw a question and glance to Carlisle, his hands stiffened.

"He asked for me," I finally said, breaking the silence, moving my hand away from Nathan's as he stirred. "_Why_?"

Peter looked away from his brother's face, biting his lip. He didn't know. He must have taken Nathan's power the second he got shot at the conference. I looked at Rachel for an answer.

"Why did he fly you to the hospital in front of all those reporters?" Rachel shrugged. "Why did he finally decide to run for president?"

"Take me inside his head, Rachel," I muttered. "I want to know the truth behind him."

"Umm . . . I'm not sure that's a great idea."

"I want to know how much he felt for me," I glared at her.

"20 minutes," Rachel sighed. "Close your eyes."

_And I was gone_.

***

Every memory flashed through my mind, and I felt myself go limp on the bed. Every memory was only fragments of his thoughts at the time, and his feelings expressed.

***

Nathan's POV

_I never expected that she'd be so _beautiful_. She really _did_ have no limit_—_at all. She just got more beautiful every single day I met her. And here she was, stepping down the stairs with the unsure look on her face. She was glowing with every step she took, an angel, and I couldn't keep my eyes off of her as everyone looked up at her and Dimitri._

_Surprisingly, she was the one who offered to dance. She smiled wryly, as if it was an accident and she didn't mean to ask _me_. But her eyes said something also, a golden-blue blazing every time I looked at her. Just like Carlisle. _

_"You look . . . nice," I muttered stupidly. "Stunning to be exact. Your eyes are the most noticable though." _

Great_, pick something _stupid_ to say to her. She flushed a scarlet color, grinning at an inside joke. But before I knew it, that _creep_, David Sheplin, grabbed her. _

_"Nathan . . . " Peter called as I crossed my arms to stare at them. "Go get her." _

_"Oh, Peter," I chuckled. "Don't start prodding inside my head. _

_Peter glared at me, rolling his eyes and patting Rachel's arm. "Fine, _I'll_ do something then." _

_***_

_She was unhappy. I saw the way she did the walk of shame to the outskirts of the conversations. Only an outcast would be able to walk away from prying eyes and cameras eager to catch her every step. She looked so _peaceful_ as her hands traced the railings of the balcony. She heaved with every breath, and it nearly looked as if she was going to break. I hoped that Jason knew what he was doing to Vasanti for the last 16 years of her life; it wouldn't be _too_ bad if he just randomly appeared._

_The chill made goosebumps rise as I stepped out, even through the expensive jacket, so how could _she_ stand it? She didn't even _look_ cold, she must have _really_ awkward senses. I saw the way she looked at Sylar and his _Neutral_ girlfriend, Ashley. She was jealous—jealous that she would lose the brother she knew. But he wouldn't abandon her, because _she_ was his _weakness_, his only kin. _

_If only _they knew_. Too many secrets within the Gray Family. Jason and Carlisle couldn't be more alike. But I knew that they'd both throw me to the wolves if I spilled. My secret could not come out. I needed to win the election. I _needed_ to. _

_I wrapped my jacket around her shoulders, and suddenly, her smile didn't seem to far away. _

_And when she left that night, she had a new, confident look on her face. I had done well. _

_***_

_After those two weeks without Vasanti (not including the time I visited her against my will—Jason's doing—showing up in a _lavatory_!), she showed up in the middle of the rumble—saving my life—but killing a _Neutral_. _

_Ursula had poisoned her beforehand, and as she inched closer to Sylar, slamming his bloodied body on the ground, she was beautiful. And laying before me was Jason. _

_My friend. _

_A _father_. _

_The pendant that he'd given her held a picture of her _real_ family. Lillian and Carlisle. I don't know how this family managed to keep so many secrets. They must have been _experts_. _

_The blood that ran down her cheeks had disappeared, and the feeling that she gave me when our lips met, made me feel . . . whole. But it would be the last time I would feel like that again. She had chosen her side, and I couldn't interfere. _

_"Nathan, she's choking," Peter cried, tugging at my arm. "Three poisons. Ursula, Zhenn . . . _you_." _

_"Dr. Suresh!" I yelled as I was at her side in a flash, her face breaking out in hives, her hands red and the blood draining from her face. _

_All voices were overlapping each other as Dr. Adraithan ordered everyone to back up as they huddled. I clutched onto her hand, patting it, praying for her health. _

_"Dr. Adraithan, what do you suggest we do?" Dr. Suresh muttered, flashing a light down her throat as Dr. Adraithan lifted her shirt up, a bruise of a hand imprint on her stomach. _

_And for once, I saw fear in his eyes. Everything that he had loved—his own daughter—was going to be gone. _

_"New York Hospital, as soon as possible!" _

_She coughed, blood spraying into the air as she gripped onto the hand that I held her with. Sylar glared at me and yelled. At first I thought he was going to kill me, but I snapped out of my hypnotized state and heard him. _

_"_Go, _Nathan!" Sylar shrieked. "She's going to die if you don't go!" _

_I grabbed her and blasted towards the sky, the air rushing and slapping me in the face. I was going as fast as I had ever gone, and everything was a blur as we passed every single city like a jet._

_That was when I knew—the one who would be there. Always. _

_"My hero," she whispered after saying she loved me, her voice only a rasp as they ripped her from my arms. _

_That was when I knew. That no matter which side she chose, who she was, what she did, or what she'd say—I would always be the one who she would call. _

_I was her hero. _

_***_

_Tracy and I would never be together, because every time I looked at any woman, I would only compare her to Vasanti. I thought that if I . . . was with Tracy, it would all go away. I just wanted to be normal, and be with someone closest to normal in our society. But it turns out, I don't want to be what people want me to be. I wanted to be with Vasanti. And I still do. _

_***_

_One minute I held the key, next the worlds were closed on me. _

_Find Vasanti. That would be my dying wish. Tell her everything that has gone through my head since the first day I met her. Tell her I love her. She is the music to my soul. Without her, I'm gone, lost. Nothing. _

_***_

I sat abruptly up, the chair clanging on the ground beside Carlisle as tears ran down my cheeks.

It all hurt. It burned. It ached. There were so many feelings surrounding me right now that I couldn't even feel anything.

"Vasanti," Rachel whispered, standing up, her hand reaching towards me.

She couldn't help. Nobody could. This wasn't how it should have ended. This wasn't it.

"I'm sorry," I cried, wiping the tears hastily from my eyes, pushing my way past them and out of the doors.

I was wrong about everything. I had underestimated his love. I was blind. Blinded by my own will.

***

"I'm _really _sorry, Liam," I muttered into the cellphone. "Are you okay?"

"Ugh," Liam sighed. "Just some . . . _second-degree_ burns."

I felt _horrible_ for Liam, because the bullet powder had gotten on his skin while healing Nathan. Now, Nathan would be let out in a couple of days. _Lucky bastard_.

"So, you're okay?" I asked.

"Yeah! I'm fine," he perked up, trying to be convincing. But he was a _terrible_ liar.

"Let me talk to Liz," I laughed. "I'm _not _convinced _at all_, doofus."

"He's not fine at all," Liz scoffed as I heard a small chuckle. "He's trying to tough it out for you."

"Hey, I owe her more than ever!"

"If you were going to owe me, Liam," I smiled wryly. "You would be in intense agony right now."

"It _burns_, Vasanti! It burns!" I heard his yelling through the other line. "_Oh_! The _agonizing pain_! How will I _ever_ live on?"

"We really _do_ owe you, Vasanti," Liz whispered.

I jumped onto my bed, my head sinking into a pillow.

"It must have been . . . hard, because of . . . you and . . . you-know-who," Liz mumbled. "You've changed everyone with what you've done."

"Yeah," I said in a monotone, my mind lost. "What I've done."

Killing Ashley.

Killing my father.

Exposing Nathan.

Tearing Nathan's heart to pieces.

Killing Kit.

Hurting my brother.

Losing myself.

* * *

**Please review! Any advice for a person who just _lost_ their inspiration for her stories? **


	19. Birthday Cake?

**As from now on: Dedicated to Nathan Petrelli **

**Also 'sub' dedicated to: _MaRga_!!! (Anna)**

**Please enjoy, please tell me what I might need to work on 2-3 chapters left until BOOK 2 ...!**

**Review please!**

* * *

~Our Notion~

*Birthday . . . Cake?*

I threw my hands over my eyes, not looking at myself through the large mirror after Vivi had dragged me though hell, pulling me through dresses and hairstyles, make up, and hairspray. The music and chattering from downstairs, shaking the room that had been provided for Vivi.

Finally, she had thrown me into a white blouse with a white scarf, a black knee-length dress that pirouetted around my knees and a pair of black and silver flats. My hair was straightened plainly, but I didn't care about _anything_ I wore, because my 17th birthday was the one birthday I wanted to skip. I didn't need a birthday. Not when Kit was dead. Not when Nathan was gone. Not without Jason. Everything had gone wrong in the past year, and if they thought that a birthday was going to help, they were literally pushing their luck. I stepped out from the room right above the staircase, making my way down to the crowded first floor.

Rachel and Ashley had _really_ messed up the house, lights flashing everywhere as I tried to close my eyes and all the furniture was pressed against the wall so people could dance in the middle. The patio was closed off, only because my fruitcake was out there. The kitchen was open to everyone, food and chips on the table to make all the guests comfortable just in case they were hungry for a snack, or some sparkling water.

Every _Villia_ was here, and a handful of _Solitudes_ and _Neutrals_ also. I mean, I could list out everyone, but Liz, Liam, Sarah, Dal, Dimitri, Val, Hiro, Ando, Elizabeth, Carlisle, Rachel, Peter . . . whatever . . . it wasn't like I wanted to talk too much today anyways.

We had never invited _Solitudes_ before, and we used to only have a few _Neutrals_ stop in, and now, it was a full house _seriously_. The only people who I noticed missing in the picture was Kit and Nathan, who should have been here somewhere. Kit was always the one who brought the party to life and he had been to every single of my parties since he was born. Now, without him . . . it was like a child trying to let go of her first blanket. And Nathan . . . well . . . it's something I could _never_ get used to. The loneliness always settled in at the mention of his name, and it was hard to get him out of my head because I could see him. In my mind, I could see him. Clearly. Perfectly.

Right now, he'd be sipping a cup of sparkling water, and as I'd walk down the stairs, his head would turn involuntarily to look around, when his eyes would catch mine. I'd smile wryly at him, and he'd extend his arm to me; I'd wrap my arm around his, and we'd walk to the dance floor, dancing slowly as he'd hold me in his arms. I could almost feel his arm around mine. His arm wrapped around my waist. I could feel the warmth of his skin. The scar on his neck. The way his eyes blazed when he looked at me, as if _I_ was his prized possesion.

I had dreamed _so much_ about him. Every moment in my dreams were a torture phase. Every smile that I gave him in my dreams, it _killed_ me from inside. The smile was for him, but was his smile for me? Was this love ever real? Was it all a dream for me? Because if I could ever dream again, I'd make it all go on forever. Nothing was worse than waking up in tears, knowing that it was a dream that I'd never get to relive again. And it was like he was _dead_ to me. It wasn't right for my mind to function like that. It wasn't right to Nathan.

Elizabeth hugged me, her scent filled with a sweet pea smell, her hair in beautiful curls and her purple flare dress was dazzling on my mom. Carlisle twirled me around on my heels, and hugged me, kissing me on the forehead. I tried to smile at his cold touch. I loved him. Carlisle was my father, and I could feel it. I _knew_ that he was, somewhere in my heart. But I couldn't get over the fact that he was a _vampire_.

"Happy 17th birthday, Vasanti," Carlisle smiled. "All of your presents are on the table."

I looked up at the table he was hinting to, filled with at least a hundred presents, probably more (I suck at math). This was going to take a while. And I thought that _last year _was bad. Sighing, I gripped on tighter to Carlisle's hand, the excruciating pain from inside was too much for me to bear. He looked up at me, and he knew. He knew that I wasn't holding his hand just because of the presents. He was my father. He knew everything.

***

"Happy birthday to you!" They finished the birthday song, clapping their hands.

Everyone was huddled around the picnic table that they had pulled into the middle of the grassy area in the backyard, filled with people, their voices being heard from miles away.

Elizabeth and Rachel had made the cake for my birthday, and needless to say, it nearly filled the entire picnic table with its 5 layers. I had to _stand up_ to blow out my 17 candles. I was able to cut the cake, quickly slicing through the kiwi, strawberries and blueberries, handing out 350 pieces of the cake, licking the whipped frosting and trying to smile.

I looked around me. Peter and Rachel happily dug in beside me, scolding him about how complicated it was to make the whipped topping. Carlisle and Elizabeth laughed across the table at a joke Liam had told him, Carlisle' hand on his chest, trying to hold in his hysteria. Even my _father_ was having more fun that _I_ was. All around me, everyone was happy, charming, coming together―because they didn't even _notice_ the absence of some people I'd grown _too_ attached to and couldn't live without.

But it was _my_ birthday, right? Shouldn't I be happy? I was forgetting the last year and welcoming the new, but I didn't want to forget the last year―not when so many precious moments lived in it.

And at last, my eyes fell up on Sylar and Ashley, squealing as Sylar pasted whipped cream on her nose, having the time of their lives. _Hell_ this was my birthday―it was a day to be selfish, and I was sitting miserably, jealously staring at other couples. Life just wasn't the same this past year, but I wanted it to be, just like the past year. I didn't want to start a new one.

"Take the first bite, Vasanti," Carlisle called, nodding at me to get my attention.

Everyone else stared at me, waiting as I faked a smile, sadly pulling the fork to my lips, the juicy kiwi smell seeping through my nostrils. I looked up at everyone, so perfect in their own lives, and they were here, celebrating a miserable person's birthday.

_I had better things to do_ . . .

"Vasanti?" Rachel stood up, nudging me.

I slammed the fork on the table, turning on my heels and pushing through everyone, my flats clacking on the floor as I slammed the door to the Jaguar, screeching away.

I'd had _enough_ with my fake attitude. I needed to face the _truth_.

I needed to face _Nathan_.

***

The car screeched to a stop, and I rushed out of the car after turning it off, my flats clackign on the concrete as I knocked on the door. I worked it all out in my head, every heartfelt word and gesture. I had to wait for a few mintues before his door opened, and everything I had planned in my head―disappeared.

He had to blink a few times to adjust to the bright sun outside, and looked like he had just woke up, tired and groggy. His arm leaned on the door for support as his legs crossed lazily in a t-shirt and dark blue, _**plaid **_pajama pants.

A melody played in the background of his house, and papers were scattered around the entire house like flies swarming a dead body.

"Nathan," I whispered, nothing else coming to mind. _Of course_ it was Nathan.

"Vasanti," he said, almost unsure.

"Since it's my birthday, you could have come over," I was trying to make this into a threat. "And we would have had to chance to have―"

_Birthday sex, birthday sex._

The radio was now blaring, and I could see he was amused by this. I rolled my eyes and I sighed, turning halfway around to go home. _This wasn't right_.

"Maybe I should just . . ."

His forehead creased, and I could see the pain. To see me walk away. Or maybe it was to see me, _period_. I could feel the warmth of his skin on mine, just like I had dreamed for the last week. He took my hand, spinning me around into the house as he slammed the door shut behind me.

"Nathan, what are you―?"

He kissed me, like he meant it this time―like he was a hungry bear looking into a fish's eyes after two entire years of hibernation. Out of instinct, my arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer to me as I leapt onto him, my legs wrapping around him as I kicked off my flats. I was going to say 'we could have had the chance to _talk'_ . . . but . . . _sex_ was . . . good . . . I guess.

We slammed int the wall, and my lips pressed against his jugular as he unbuttoned my blouse. I looked up and smiled. The willow portrait was crooked, right above his head. The portrait that Angela had painted was _us_.

I managed to whisper a out of breath _OhMyGod_ as Nathan tore his shirt off, picking me up and before I knew, it, the wind was in my face and we were flying to his room, barely making it to the bed before I tore my blouse off, forgetting about being self-conscious as my back suddenly felt the silky smooth covers under my skin. I didn't care about how old he was now, what he had done, what his occupation was―I _wanted_ him. And until this moment, I didn't know how much I _did_.

As my hands wrapped tight around him, our lips never parting, to take a breath, his hands worked down my spine, making shiver at his touch as he slowly tugged on my skirt, grasping my waist in both of his hands before he zipped down the back of my skirt.

And I smiled, my mouth partly open to take a final breath as the covers were finally blinding my sight, and I felt his skin all over mine.

_Thanks, Jeremiah_.

* * *

**please review, for NATHAN! **

**(if you're wondering why plaid is highlighted, it's for ASHLEYshe'll know why I highlighted it.)**


	20. Solely Protected

**okay, this is one of the LAST chapters-i know, sad right? **

**then book two!which i'm still debating to write or not. **

**Nathan, I still love you. :)**

**R&R**

* * *

~Our Notion~

*Solely Protected*

"Carlisle, what's wrong with me?" I sighed.

I was in Dr. Adraithan's office, a few weeks after my birthday as Ashley, Sylar and Rachel were planning their wedding―which was to take place next month. _They_ were the lucky ones―especially Nathan, who was discussing his campaign message―because I was stuck with Carlisle.

"Vasanti, could you explain what you've been experiencing in the past few weeks?" Carlisle whispered. "Anxiety? Stress? Light headedness?"

"_NO_!" I cried. "You _don't_ understand. I'm _not_ sick, something's _wrong with me_!"

"Okay . . ." Carlisle nodded. "What would you like me to do? Run some tests? Take some blood?

"_That_ would be nice," I growled. "_Just_ do something about _this_."

I leapt off of the table, but my feet didn't touch the ground. I was hovering above the ground, elevated to about a foot, sighing as my hands crossed my chest, my feet slamming down on the ground as I tried to finally balance myself.

"I'll see what I can do," he gasped, pulling out a needle from a stainless steel cabinet and smiling at me as my nerves jumped at the sight of the needle.

***

"_WHAT_?!" I screamed at Carlisle as I sat in a chair in a private room which I _hoped_ was soundproof. "You _wouldn't_!"

So, the tests came back, and somehow, during our little 'birthday session,' his _Solitude_ DNA had bonded with my _Villia_ DNA, causing this change. (I had to paraphrase so you wouldn't have to rip your hands off by looking it up in a dictionary.) Since Nathan and I were on different sides, some of our parent's _Solitude_ or _Villia_ genes were in our DNA, but since I was 'exposed and unprotected' (WE WERE SO!), his DNA chemically bonded with mine, and now _this_ was going into chaos.

"I'm sorry, Vasanti," Carlisle sighed, sitting at a desk and rubbing his temples. "I just can't believe you would . . ."

"We were _protected_!" I shrieked. "_Believe me_!"

"Vasanti, I'll have to . . ."

"_You_ wouldn't tell my _brother_ that I had _sex_ with Nathan!" I shouted. "Are you out of your mind?" Do you know how many times your _son_ and Ashley sneak out in the mazes? He. Will. _Kill_. Me! Do you _know_ what you're going to get yourself into?"

I glared at him. What the hell was he thinking of doing? He wanted his blood to be spilled too?

"Hell," he sighed. "Now, please sit down and I'll explain how DNA does this."

* * *

**R&R! **


	21. Change is Hope

**okay, ashley, i'm sorry, your scene is next. you know which one ... XD**

**please review! i need feedback, especially if the next chapter is the last ... **

* * *

~Our Notion~

*Change is Hope*

"Where is Senator Petrelli?" I threatened the guard who was standing by the doors, knowing I could kill him in one touch as I paced back and forth in front of the press room. "He should be out by now, our flight leaves in _3 hours_ and we still have to pack. Not to mention get through _security_."

The bodyguard looked at me weirdly. I was about to rip his throat out if he looked at me again. I watched the door carefully, listening to the last of his speech before leavig for the wedding.

"Thank you everyone," his muffled voice echoed through the microphone, and the door creaked open, Nathan's figure stepping out as he waved to the simoultanious flashes of cameras.

My 'substitute' bodyguard and Nathan's bodygaurd nodded to each other as they stepped away, my bodyguard's job finished forever because Dimitri was coming back to 'guard' me—right after the wedding.

Scooping me up into his arms and sweeping me off of the ground, he held me close. I smirked at him as my arms wrapped around his neck, his suit was fresh smelling and sweet, making me smile. This was my Nathan.

"You're _late_," I scowled. "And we've got to leave for the airport. You know Vivi is going to hold _me_ soley responsible."

"We'll be _fine_, Vasanti," he sighed.

He kissed me on the lips, a cool icy sensation running though our lip connection, his lips turning into a blue tint as an icy kiss connected him to me. I smirked. Pulling my lips toh is as I pulled closer to him, his back slamming against the wall as I absorbed the ice he shot at me. I took his hand and ran towards an open balcony door, pulling him with me as I pushed off of the railing, jumping into thin air as he caught me in his arms, blasting me to the sky as my hair fluttered around him.

"I'll see you at the airport," he glared at me, just in case I decided to bail. "Peter and Rachel will be there too—_don't_ be late."

"Bye."

***

I was going to murder Vivi for picking my clothes out for me. And not just all my _clothes_, all my jewelry, accessories _and_ shoes. She knew how much this wedding was worth to sylar—she was out to impress Sylar. Obviously, Nathan and I were the last ones that were going to arrive at the beach in New Jersey.

Dragging my suitcase behind me, I smiled at Nathan, who opened the door for me, still making my heart jump as his hand wrapped around my waist.

"So, Nathan," Peter mused, patting him on the back. "Hook up so _soon_?"

I ignored their vulgar comments to each other as I hugged Rachel. "Somehow, you two are acting like a couple now," Rachel whispered, handing our tickets over the counter and laughing.

"So if you can't get through _my_ head, you'll get through _Nathan's_," I sighed.

"Actually—it's quite difficult _now_," Rachel grumbled, raising an eyrbow.

"Hey! Are you two coming or not?" I yelled over my shoulder as we passed through security quickly, Rachel's mind control workign better than we had anticipated.

Nathan chuckled, a goat draped over one arm as he wlbowed Peter, rushign after us as we rolled our eyes.

Taking our places on the plane, I fastened my seat belt, the smooth feeling of velvet under my skin as I smiled at Nathan beside me. (The things a senator could do to bend the airline rules!) Squirming, I clutched onto my sides, the jacket seeming to comfort me through my scared stare out the window.

Nathan and I were sitting in the left wing of the plane, and I drew the short stick because I was sitting by the window. _Lucky me_.

"This is your pilot speaking," a male voice said over the loudspeaker. "Nickolas Lane. I'd just like to tell you that our trip this afternoon will be . . ."

Beside me, Nathan mouthed the words of the pilot, laughing as he looked at me. "Please enjoy your ride—and come back soon," Nathan whispered. "Ah, I _love_ this pilot."

The plane jolted, and I gasped, gripping tighter onto the cushions, trying to breathe slowly. I had never been an airplane person before, even though _now_ I can fly—I don't trust these people. A warm sensation cralwed through my body as Nathan's hand gripped onto mine. I looked up, opening my eyes for the first time since take off.

"A squeamish flyer, aren't we?" he laughed.

He _obviously_ was _too_ relazed. Hi seatbelt was just barely buckled, his face creased into a smile, and his hands were smooth and warm, not clammy ad cold like mine were.

"I don't think I'm . . . strong enough to . . ." My hand snapped to my seatbelt to break free from the flight, planning to start screaming and yelling like a maniac to let me off of this plane.

Nathan's hand followed swiftly after mine, squeezing it as I was about to snap open the button. My eyes were panicked as I looked up at him, pleading and filled with fear. His hands clutched my hand tighter, holding it tight and still as I shook violently.

"Nathan," I whispered.

"Shh," he shook his head as his forehead leaned closer to mine. "It's okay, _I'm_ here."

Turbulence made my head jerk, making everyone jump slightly. Then _I _was the oen who squeezed Nathan's hand, holding it against my heart and letting out a small cry. And as I turned to meet his eyes, my hands and body shaking—I met his lips.

Again, there was that spark, and I enjoyed the jumpy feeling that I got, all my woriesfalling away as I dropped his hand, rushign to grip onto his shoulders. He pulled quickly away, smiling. Presing his lips close enough to mine that I could feel his breath on mine, our lips just barely touched.

"How strong are you now?"

I smiled, clutching onto his hand. "Very strong, Nathan. _Very strong_ indeed."

***

"You two are _too_ cute!" Rachel sighed, dousing a salad with ranch.

I took a bite out of the Asian mixture of vegetables, rice, chicken and beef, shrugging at Rachel across the booth. Nathan (who sat beside me) chuckled at Peter who took his place beside Rachel, eating a blend of vegetable stir-fry. I picked at my broccoli, smiling as I tried to look composed, but I was afraid.

What if I ruined their wedding? What if I was the one who wouldn't let Sylar get married?

_Married_.

_Sylar_.

Those two words together didn't seem right. I couldn't get used to them at all.

"Seriously, Vasanti," Rachel cried. "The maid of honor isn't the one who's supposed to get cold feet."

I darted my eyes away so they couldn't follow my gaze. Nathan's hand enclosed around mine, and I took it desperately, clutching onto his warmth.

"I . . . I know," I whispered.

"Just _let it go_," Peter smiled. "You've changed—don't worry."

But _had_ I changed? Had I been the one who stood up to my own brother—even if it hurt me? The answer was all around me. _Solitudes_ were here—with me—where I never thought they'd be. My views had changed. My values had changed. And all together, _I_ had changed.

"Yeah," I scoffed, stroking Nathan's hand. "I have."

* * *

**Can you guys review? am I going overboard over Senator Petrelli's death? (ashley, i know you think so)**


	22. Our Notion

**~I just want to let you all know that this was the hardest chapter to write, beacsue Nathan and Vasanti were so _into_ their love. Thank you to everyone who made this possible. My amazing charactors are always based off of people in my life. Thank you Ashley, Rachel, Val, Sarah, Liz, Jason Splichal, Marga, CherishI love you all.**

**Thank you, Adrian PasdarI still love you too. Thank you for making me realize my full potential of my crying capacity, because if i could count how many gallons of tears I've shed for Heroes and Our NotionIt would equal probably 5 gallons ... **

* * *

~Our Notion~

*Our Notion*

"God, Vasanti—you're so filthy," Vivi groaned, running a comb through my hair, just like she had done for the last hour. "Every other bridesmaid will look the same, but I promised Sylar I'd make _you_ stunning."

I was nearly worn out—when we got here, all the girls were rushed into their own rooms, and with Marie and Maria's help, we didn't need to rush Vivi everywhere—only to add finishing touches was she needed. But lucky for me, I got Vivi.

The wedding was going to be _amazing_. When the limo dropped us off at the beach, I nearly fainted. It was _beautiful_. The beach was closed for the wedding, and the archway behind everything was going to be decorated with flowers and a long white carpet had been laid out for the bride. The wind was calm, thanks to Liz, a beautifully effective breeze blowing. The beach house that they had rented was _quite_ large with a gigantic split balcony—_so_ big that it was larger than the first floor altogether (which was able to seat over 600 people without making it crowded). One balcony was going to be used for dancing and the other was just for whale watching, which we weren't going to use.

The beach house was pure white from the inside out, with 3 floors, the top two for bridesmaids, maid of honors and best men and the bottom one was for the 'reception' when I'd get to make my amazing toast. It was directly connected with the balcony, so we'd be able to grab a partner and step outside with a single stride.

The room I was sitting in at this second was . . . comfortable enough. I was in a _very_ plush chair which Vivi pulled and pushed me up and down with a lever. The room as pure white, a single window letting sunlight illuminate the room, my dress on a rack with another concealed dress—the bride's.

"Do I get to see her dress?" I smiled, looking in the mirror as she worked on my hair, pinning my hair down with bobby pins.

"No."

I pouted, relaxing in the chair as I closed my eyes, letting her transform me.

When I opened my eyes to look at myself, I beamed, drawing in a sharp breath.

_Elegant and sexy_.

Those two went in hand and hand. It was as if I was dipped in heaven for this. My eyes were drawn with a bronze eyeshadow and eyeliner, the mascara—luckily for me was waterproof—I would need that for later. My lips were gleaming, maybe because of the lip gloss, or it could have been my smile. My hair was in curls, bouncing along my shoulders as it was tied into a half bun, fresh plumerias and diamonds circling the bun as strands of hair fell up on my shoulders, my bangs swiped to one side.

"I had to take your crests off," Vivi sighed. "You look insanely gruesome in those poisoning metal."

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, Vivi, whatever you think is necessary."

"No, every other bridesmaid will be waring the same thing," Vivi sighed, as if she didn't tell me before. "But I thought you might want some changes with your hair and switch those _plain_ heels with new ones."

And then there was my dress. _Ah_, when I say _dress_, I sigh with joy. It was a satin strapless white, knee-length dress was enough, right? Not for Vivi. As I twirled around, the entire dress around my stomach area twirled and rippled. And as crazy as it sounds, right under the breasts, was a ribbon of jewels wrapping to the back of the dress with an abstract-like design on the back of the dress, the art climbing down my back. The front of the dress was creased together by my abs, climbing up to the ribbon, a slit at the top of the cloth, making me feel slutty as Vivi stressed the showing of cleavage.

The necklace that hung from my neck wasn't as flashy, just some pearls strung with a single diamond in the middle, my pearl earrings smiling at me. The shoes that she was freaking out over and just _had_ to change, was a pair of silver heels with straps wrapping around my ankle like a snake.

"Have I told you lately, you're my main girl?" I smiled, hugging her, then whispering in her ear. "Your raise is going to be so high, you could throw another wedding."

She scoffed, shooing me away. "Keep Sylar away. The bride's next."

***

Breathless and speechless, I clutched onto the bouquet of white roses, tied off with a ribbon. Here it was. The grand entrance.

All of the chairs were plastered with white cloth, all 600 people turning around to stare as a slow melody played before the bride could come in. Planting a smile on my face, I took a step onto the isle, making my way towards the front as the children in front of me threw flowers onto the isle, their dresses cute and small as some of them used their abilities to fly them around.

I nodded to Carlisle as he waved to me, smiling. A spot beside him was bare, the person who I loved thoroughly as a little brother was gone. Kit Vladescu.

Blinking, I looked straight forward. And after I looked up, I couldn't look anywhere else as the fake smile turned into a real one. There he was. In front of the arch, and white gleaming cloth and flowers that slowly pirouetted with the wind, waiting above the steps below the priest for his bride.

_Sylar_.

I hadn't seen him so dressed up before this. It was extremely foreign to me to see him in a one button black jacket with a white shirt under that, his collar pulled up with an amazingly (Vivi) stylish striped tie. His hair, as instructed by Vivi—was combed and parted, a slight smile planted on his face as I stepped on by, trying not to trip as I climbed up the step, standing next to where the bride would be soon.

The other bridesmaids behind me (Rachel, Liz, Sarah, Val . . . etc . . .) were quietly talking to each other in hushed voices, probably because there were so many people (friends of Sylar and Ashley's!). But I knew what they were whispering about in their white identical dresses—their men.

All of the best men were wearing the same thing, but one each person, there was a different authority assigned to each of them. They had a two button jacket with a white shirt, the collars pulled up as I could see a hint of a black vest under the jacket. Their hair was combed back the same way, but with more of a sexy edge to it—because they weren't married—of course.

My smile was for Nathan. Directly for him. Hell, he was _all_ I could think about at this moment. But planted on his face was a look I hadn't anticipated, I guess he was just as surprised as I was at how I had turned out. He was more than a Senator. He was more than Nathan. He was _my Nathan_. I could see his gaze on mine as I tried to tear away, trying to do my job. And of course, his face was beautiful and I couldn't believe—for once that we were on the same side—that everyone here was _finally_ on the same side.

That eventually all the troubles that they've been through they had . . . _sided_. They were finally tired of being enemies. And all because I was in love with Nathan. How insane was that?

The bridal march started, and I snapped back into focus, Nathan's thoughts exactly. I was standing exactly a step down from Sylar, directly across from Nathan. but his face was turned away, staring in awe at Ashley—just like everyone else. If there was ever a good time to say a fallen angel—this was it. Never in my entire life had I seen such an _amazing_ wedding dress.

The dress's train was long and beautiful as it flowed behind her, the imported silk from Japan had patterns and diamonds gleaming with every stride she took. The bodice pressed against her chest, a loose strap hanging on her shoulders, the gloves that she had were up to her elbows, the veil made a crown on her head, her hair curled as it bounced above her shoulders and shining, her bangs falling up on her veiled face. Her heels were white and the straps wrapped around her feet, coiling. The Italian diamonds formed a ripple as it hung from her neck, and her earrings nearly touched her shoulders, winding like wind.

Her eyes shimmered, rimming with tears as she made her way up, smiling at me before turning to Sylar, staring deeply and quietly into his eyes as he pulled the veil up wards, simply shocked at how much Vivi could do to his Ashley to make her seem even _more_ like an angel.

And as the vows began, I kept my eyes locked on Nathan, and I could see how hard it was for him to not rip my clothes off with a single swoop. But I only stared at him, dreading the fact that we couldn't even touch each other until the newlyweds could dance their first dance. They were _so_ insanely in love with each other though. _Madly_ in love. Never had Sylar _felt_ like he did with Ashley. I mean, killing his own sister? A little extreme, right? I know I would _never_ do that, but I understand him too well to know why.

They slipped their gold bands (Grecian gold to be exact) on each other's fingers and for the first time that _I'd_ ever seen, they gripped tight to each others hands, and kissed—_so_ passionately that I could feel the way they were connected. But through it all, I saw something from within as their lips touched. It was so strong, there was _no way_ Ashley's ability could be doing it.

_Change_. Could he be the brother I'd known just a few months ago? He was different. Calm—even with all these _powers_ laid out in front of him. Had the tolls of the last rumble gotten to him? Had he taken thought about Kit, who _gave_ his first ability to him? Because I did. Because Kit was _my_ responsibility, like a big sister's duty. But even as a little sister, I couldn't always look up to a big brother—sometimes, I had to look within. And within Sylar, he had changed. Within me, I found out who I was.

I was Nathan's.

***

Impatiently, I drummed my fingers on the table, looking up at the newlyweds as they accepted compliments from others, smiles lighting up the room as the sun began to set, highlighting the deep blue ocean. Everyone was making toasts, and I had already gotten my chance. We all sat in circular shaped tables, best men with best men, bridesmaids with bridesmaids.

The mens tables were _right_ next to us, but I guess I was the unlucky one because he was _two_ tables away, but lucky enough, I sat by all my BFF's, loving my view of Nathan's laughing and chattering faces that he gave the people around him. He was _so_ extremely hot.

As our eyes met for an instant second, he was talking and didn't notice until he looked away that it was me, and tried to gain ground by looking for me again, unsuccessfully as our attention was drawn to the front, where Ashley and Sylar stood up, holding their glasses.

"I'd like to toast to a specific someone who has made all of this possible. I mean, _literally_. The person who called everyone on my guest list, who ordered everything, who called _all_ the favors in to help _us all_ look _amazing_. Someone who got an average of 15 hours of sleep within 2 weeks. My _dear_ sister-in-law, _Vasanti_."

_What_? Yeah, _right_. I was the one who called 600 people, made decorations, rented the place . . . holy mother . . . I _did_ do a lot. Did she _really_ expect me to stand up and . . .

"Stand up, Vasanti!" My friends urged, and I was immediately standing, smiling and blushing at the same time as people clapped, cheered and whistled—presumably Nathan.

"Not only has she changed _my_ life, she's changed her own life, and along with all lives—now and later.

"Before all of this, we were segregated. There was a line between us all. Out of 10 billion people on this planet, we were the 3 billion with abilities. And through it all, there was Vasanti." Ashley sighed, sitting down, but still willing to talk.

I smiled at her, and I could feel tears rimming my eyes. It was _her_ wedding, why bother talking about me? Keep it together Vasanti. _Don't you_ dare_ cry_!

"She started the journey as a girl. Lost and confused with the kind of society we had around us. She made friendships that were forbidden. She defied _everything_ she had ever stood for, but she kept it all together, even when all else was lost. When she seemed to lose a part of herself." She directed this towards Nathan, her eyes dancing as Nathan chuckled. "And she made a decision. A decision _nobody_ should ever make—it's like choosing either clean air to breathe or fresh water to drink. She chose to go with what her mind thought was best to her, and she ditched what her heart thought was right. But she came out of it all, changed. She came out of all this . . . _a woman_."

I quickly wiped away the crystal-like tears, sniffling as there was a silence.

"To Vasanti," Sylar cried, raising his glass.

"To Vasanti," everyone answered in unison.

And I smiled. I belonged somewhere. I'd belong anywhere now because of this experience. The stood up, making their way to the open doored balcony, lights hung around the railings and the stairs decorated with flowers. All bridesmaids and best men stood up, rushing up the stairs to circle around the couple, who were hand in hand. As I stepped up the stairs, I looked to see Nathan stepping up next to me.

My hands immediately found his, a form of protective cover coming to me as I squeezed on tight. We didn't talk, we didn't look at each other as the two danced to their song.

_I'll Be_ by _Edwin McCain_.

_So _sweet. But before I got another change to look at him, I was ripped away from him, landing in Peter's arms as Rachel took Nathan into the swarm of coupled dancers, blocking my view of him, twirling and swirling back and forth. I looked up at peter and rolled my eyes, a faint smile playing on my lips. _His_ smile was more sly, like he was _trying_ to ruin my night.

"Are you two _trying_ to separate us?" I muttered, taking a step back, then sideways, twirling around, then catching his hand again.

"No," Peter sighed, humming to the song. "We're just keeping both of you as far away from each other, so you can rip each others clothes off _later_."

"Now, Peter," I narrowed my eyes. "Were those _my_ thoughts?"

"No, but they soon will be."

I scowled at him, aiming to step on his toes, slamming my heel on the ground as I tried. _Great_, he had Rachel's ability. As the song ended, Ashley was thrown int o her father's arms, and Sylar sat down for some odd reason.

"He wants to talk to you," he whispered, letting me go. "And don't have _too much_ fun now. I'm warning you—Nathan's thoughts aren't as clean as yours are."

"Thanks, Peter," I shrugged. "I'll keep that in _mind_."

He sat in one out of ten tables that surrounded the balcony, but didn't disrupt the dancing. The white tablecloth just barely touched the ground, and a bouquet of roses were in a vase in the middle, the two chairs facing each other with a couple of glasses and a tub of sparkling water to the side—Sylar was helping himself.

"Congrats, Sylar," I cried, jumping from behind him.

He turned around, standing up as he did so and wrapped his arms around me, suffocating my breathing abilities as he shoved me into his chest. His grip was tight, warm—desperate.

"It's my fault he's dead," Sylar whispered into my hear, his voice quivering. "He would have been my best man."

_Kit_. My_ Kit._ A brother—bound not by blood—but by heart.

I sat across from him and set a hand on his, trying to sothe him as he was a state of deep depression.

"All he wanted to be was a normal boy," Sylar muttered, running a hand through his hair. "And all of _this_ just soaked into him—and he wanted to belong. He wanted to be strong. He knew he had a use for this world. A use for his power."

Just like me. He knew his resources were limited—especially people who wanted a change in our society. He did it—but didn't make it out alive to see what he'd changed—but I did. It was all he ever wanted to see. All he ever wanted to be.

"Sylar—you gave him a second chance—when you _literally_ didn't need to," I tried to smile, but the thought of Kit, lying there—bloody, dead—was still imprinted into my mind. "He changed _us_. _Me_ more than ever. He gave me a responsibility of being an older sister—something I've never felt before. He was a _hero_, Sylar—a _hero_. Not many of _us_ out there are labeled that."

"Except _him_," Sylar muttered, nodding to Nathan, who was interacting with nearly everyone here.

"_Sylar_," I glared at him. "Heroes come in unique ways. Stereotypes don't really help the cause."

I could tell he still wasn't convinced by the annoyed look on his face.

"I know you two are _close_, but Vasanti," Sylar sighed again. "I don't want you two to be . . . _so close_ to each other. But I want you to take it, Vasanti. Take Arigha's deal. He's giving you the life I never had."

_Too late_, Sylar. _Way too late_ for the sex talk.

"I'll think about it, Sylar."

"May I have this dance?" A _too_ familiar voice asked, a hand extended for me.

Looking up at Sylar, his figure was gone, swooping Ashley into his arms as I looked up—at Nathan. My heart was beating faster, scared to look up at his too perfect eyes. But when I stood up, my face turned to his as an arm circled my waist, the other clutching my hand slightly as my arm crookedly set on his shoulder. A song begun to take form, and we seemed to be the only ones dancing to the song: "Can I Have This Dance" by Zac Efron and Vanessa Hudgens. I know, it's like High School Musical all over again.

"Nathan," I whispered, looking around us as people chatted a few couples swinging back and forth slowly.

"Vasanti."

I looked up at him, blushing as I could see his eyes gazing into mine. Peter was right. His eyes blazed with longing and I didn't need his words to tell me mine did too.

"You made that decision _for_ me, didn't you?" Nathan muttered, his lips barely moving as he twirled me, pulling me back and my arms wrapping around his neck. "You _wanted_ me with someone else. You wanted me gone."

"No," I snapped, a little too quickly, pulling him closer to me as if he was going to disappear. "I didn't want you to leave. It _killed_ me, Nathan. It was like lying, but with no reason at all. _I love you_, Nathan, and that will _never_ change."

Nathan held me closer now, my head laying on his shoulder as his arms were around my waist, mine were still locked around his neck. He leaned down to my hear, a hint of a smile in his voice as I breathed in his Senator-like smell.

"You know _I_ love you _more_," he nudged me, brushing his lips past my cheek.

"I don't want you to leave, Nathan," I muttered, stepping back and forth, in tune with the song. "Not then, not now, not _ever_."

"Ever," he repeated, leaning down to press his lips on mine as I pulled up towards his. "Sounds kind of 'Romeo and Juliet', doesn't it?"

And I could hear the fireworks in the distance, the song exploding with power. The kiss was quick, a single peck on the lips as we locked eyes, even though the song had ended, and another hadn't started yet.

"Happy belated birthday, Vasanti," Nathan whispered, his eyes darting behind me.

He took my hand then, twirling me around, one hand still at my waist. The ring bearer was carrying a large box with a bow died with it, a bit too big to be a _ring_ box. I looked up at Nathan just before I took the box into my hands, pulling away from him as I stepped a way, a questioning look on my face as he took it out of my palm.

"What is it?" I asked, smiling at everyone around me. Were they in on it too?

"Close your eyes, Vasanti," Nathan said, snapping the box open, pulling something out as the crowd around us gasped.

I extended my arm out as soon as his hands clasped around my wrists, a cool metal of some sort snapping shut as I finally looked up, gasping as a gold (genetically engineered gold to be exact—it's _so _much lighter than the 2012 version of gold.) bracelet wrapped around my hand, making people chatter. The engraving was filled with specific designs and details, probably taking weeks to make. There was a girl with golden-emerald eyes and a pure smile, her teeth gleaming with vampire fangs, her hair blowing behind her, a crown planted in her hair, a lightning bolt flashing in the background. Her hands were open, palms crossing over each other as vines crossed over and around her arms, a blood red rose hovering over her hands with thorns, their stems flying from under the squared shoulders and circling into an oval around the metal.

I could sill tell the wanted the girl to look evil.

"What's this?" I asked, spinning around as everyone around me smiled.

Sylar stepped forward first, still smiling.

"To a new generation."

Then, as in an outburst, everyone, one by one, stepped forward, forming a circle as they spoke.

"Something that has been needed for centuries." Ashley stepped forward.

"Created by someone so small." Rachel took Ashley's hand.

"And is now at the top of the food chain." Peter laughed.

"From confused to courageous." Demetri nodded to me.

"Unprotected to heavily loved." Valerie took Demetri's hand.

"Not just thinking for herself." Liz smiled.

"But for everyone around her." Liam took a deep breath.

"For righting her wrongs." Sarah's hands burned with flames.

"And always holding on." Dal swiped away a stray hair of his.

"For letting go of the past." Elizabeth beamed.

"And sincerely cherishing the present." Carlisle sighed, smiling at his child.

"And _loving_ the future," Nathan took me by the hand. "To Vasanti."

And he held me close, his arms firmly wrapped around my waist, bracing me to him.

"To my sexy flying man," I whispered. "My _hero_."

***

The music blared from the balcony as everyone was dancing, a punk-rock music playing as I stood on the other side of the balcony, the deserted storage area, Nathan by my side as we stared into the distance, whales singing and wailing, the breeze was comfortable, a bit chilly, but I wasn't going to bother Nathan. But with this moment, memories rushed back.

The first night I met Nathan.

And I smiled. How could a single night affect my entire life? How could a single smile change it all? How could a single balcony bring so many memories? It was wonderful though, that the sadness that I was filled with that night summed up to _this_. A perfect place to be.

My hand was laying on the railing, small, but deadly, staring at the moon, just like I did before.

Nathan's jacket was around my shoulder in a flash, like we had planned this moment, but I smiled at him as his hand held mine, my one hand holding the jacket around me to keep the heat in.

"Why does this feel like deja vu?" I whispered, looking up to him.

"Because," Nathan smiled dazzlingly. "The same song is on as before."

And indeed, it _was_. You Found Me.

"Because I still have the admiration towards you," I sighed. "I still feel like I'm falling for you."

"Well then," he said, grabbing my waist pulling me to him, staring _right_ at me. "Let's relive our moments."

We swayed together, just like we had _that night_—could it have been only a few months since? My head rested on his heart, his arms holding me as it felt like I was falling into his arms.

"I promise, Vasanti," Nathan whispered. "I promise I'll never leave you when you need me. And I promise I'll do everything in my power to protect you. You're _mine_ now."

Sighing, I could hear his heartbeat, the silky leather of his vest making me stroke it silently, his heart slowly beating faster.

"Stop making it sound like you're seducing me," I smiled.

He chuckled. "You _love_ those words. Sexy. Seducing. _Mine_."

"You are the perfect knight in shining armor," I looked up at him, waiting for a response.

He was silent for a second, and through the darkness, I saw him smile. And just like before, his scar was noticable, and I remembered what he said that night.

"Are you _sure_ your country is all you have left?" I asked. "Or has your notion changed?"

He held me closer, pressing his lips against my hair, and I could feel a stray tear streaming down my face as I pulled closer to him, closing my eyes.

"It's changed. _So much_," Nathan pursed his lips. "Our notion has changed."

Nathan took my crying face into his hands, pulling my chin up so our lips met, ice spreading throughout my body as his hand held mine, sparkling with ice, a cool sensation running through our lips. I took a deep breath, wanting this moment to last forever—it was too precious to me now.

"Why are you so sexy when you're cold?"

"Everything turns you on when it's cold," Nathan muttered, letting me push myself against him, nearly toppling him over.

Vivi was going to murder both of us for wrinkling our clothes, but at this instant, the world could be ending, and I wouldn't care. I tore his vest away, and he pulled my hair out if its bun, wrapping his hand around my head, pulling me closer again. My hands were not on his shoulders, bracing myself up, but I pulled away.

"I love you, Nathan."

"I love you too, Vasanti."

And fireworks exploded as I held him close, my lips on his cheek as I cried, my tears ceasing to stop.

"We're going to change the world, Vasanti," Nathan whispered, kissing me again.

"No, Nathan—" I braced myself against him so his back was against the railing as I kissed him. "We _are_ changing the world."

I opened my palm, a single pin of the American flag in it, and he took it it, taking my hand with it as he towered over me, and I knew that we were changing the world. But with his body language, I could tell.

_The world can wait_.

* * *

PLEASE REVIEW!.IT'S THE LAST CHAPTER!!!MAYBE I CAN JUST GO CRY OVER AND OVER AGAIN OVER A PICTURE OF NATHAN?

**and the world CAN wait for the next book!!!Thank you all!Check out the next chapterit's a playlist of all their songs !!!**


	23. Playlist

**The playlist is what inspired the person's characters. **

**This ****playlist was put together by: Ka Vue and Ashley (Quinto). Thank you to everyone who inspired me to write, _OUR NOTION_-Please be anticipated to read the next book: _inFinity._ **

**I do not own any songs or names. **

**And I have a last question: Who was your favorite charactor? **

* * *

Playlists:

**Sylar Gray: **

~Gives You Hell-All American Rejects

~What About Now?-Daughtry

~Over My Head/Cable Car-The Fray

**Ashley Berkof: **

~I'm Yours-Jason Mraz

**Sylar&Ashley: **

~To Be With You-David Archuleta

~A Moment Like This-Kelly Clarkson

~1-2-3-4-Plain White T's

~I'll Be-Edwin McCain

~You Raise Me Up-Josh Groban

~Smile-Uncle Kracker

**Peter:**

~How to Save a Life-The Fray

**Rachel: **

~Hanging By a Moment-Lifehouse

**Rachel&Peter: **

~Bring Me to Life-Evanescence

~C'mon Get Higher-Matt Nathanson

~You and Me-Lifehouse

**Peter&Nathan: **

~If Everyone Cared-Nickelback

~Ever The Same-Rob Thomas

**Nathan: **

~Viva La Vida-Coldplay

~Never Too Late-3 Days Grace

~Sorry-Jonas Brothers

~Awake-Josh Groban

~Fly-Mark Joseph

**Vasanti: **

~Shelf-Jonas Brothers

~You Found Me-The Fray

~Love Remains the Same-Gavin Rossdale

~Stand in the Rain-Superchick

**Vasanti&Nathan: **

~Collide-Howie Day

~What Hurts the Most-Rascal Flatts

~Simple and Clean-Utada Hikaru

~A Thousand Miles-Vanessa Carlton

**Everyone: **

If Today Was Your Last Day-Nickelback

All the Right Moves-One Republic

Someday-Rob Thomas

Apologize-One Republic

Lovedrunk-Boys like Girls

Battlefield-Jordin Sparks

Listen to Your Heart-Cascada

Show me What I'm Looking For-Carolina Liar

Everytime We Touch-Cascada


End file.
